Tears of an Oracle
by Riverstyxx
Summary: The death of Malefor should have begun a new age of peace. Three search parties, including Spyro and Cynder, are sent out to uncover any dragon populations that remain in hiding. All seems well, until one of the search parties fails to return...
1. Return to Warfang

**A/N:** Salutations, Spyro fans! I have finally returned since discontinuing Hollow Heart (which some of you may have read), and am ready with something new. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. So I present to you, after much planning and gathering of thoughts, a new tale from the dark pits of my mind. I hope you enjoy 'Tears of an Oracle', and, if you feel so inclined, I'd love to receive any reviews. Read on...

**Disclaimer:** I am not, unfortunately, the owner of the Legend of Spyro franchise. However I do claim ownership over any OCs that may appear in this fic.

**Extra A/N: **Almost two years on from finishing this story, I am amazed by the amount of attention it has gotten. To everyone who has ever read this or is about to start reading this, or if you're about to read it _again_, thank you so much. I've taken the liberty to make a few minor edits, mostly grammar and continuity wise, to this story since I first posted it. Don't worry, the plot hasn't changed at all. ;)

The most notable change you'll find is that the chapters now have _names_. Amazing!

Please do enjoy this story, whether you're a first time reader or back for another round. :)

**~Riverstyxx**

**~ Tears of an Oracle ~**

_On the other side we stand_

_Of a prophecy engraved in sand_

_That so easily was brushed away_

_By the hand that wouldn't sway_

_The world was meant to break apart_

_At the claws of a cold dark heart_

_The purple one would purge the earth_

_Of sin and virtue, death and birth_

_But instead of darkness comes the light_

_A glorious ending to a fearful fight_

_The purple one the earth he'd mend_

_To herald a beginning, and not an end_

**1. Return to Warfang**

The sunrise was the first thing they saw when they returned to the surface world. It spread its golden fingers across the sky, lighting every cloud it touched in soft pastel gold. Every beast, from dragon to mole to cheetah, raised his eyes to the sky to behold the warming light. Awe graced their faces as they gazed at the beautiful earth, restored and mended to what it should have been. It was clear then, to their eyes, that the mighty heroes had succeeded.

"Woo! Yes! Hah-ha!" the shouting yells of a yellow dragonfly broke the awed silence. "They did it! Way to go, Spyro buddy!"

Just like that the trance that had fallen over everyone seemed to break, and whooping yells of joy filled the morning air. Sparx punched his tiny hands in the air, his laughing almost lost in the noise of stamping feet as the dragons signalled their approval to their purple saviour. The cheetahs clapped wildly as the moles performed peculiar little victory dances around their feet and waved their tiny paws in the air.

The trees were green, the sky was blue, and the world was perfect and serene. And they all had two dragons to thank. Sparx hoped that wherever they were, Spyro and Cynder could hear the joyful yells of the lives they had saved. Wherever they were, Sparx hoped they were enjoying the sunrise just as much as everyone here. Ancestors only knew how much they deserved it.

* * *

"They're back! They've returned!" the lookout dragon hollered as loud as he could, tugging on the bell cord and sending deep knells resounding throughout the city of Warfang.

Sparx looked up instantly, his eyes alight with surprise. He had been leaning against the windowsill in what should have been Spyro's room, gazing glumly out into the mockingly cheerful sky. It had been nearly a week since he and the whole population of Warfang had returned to the surface world to find that Spyro had somehow managed to restore the earth.

Sparx had been waiting for his adoptive brother's return ever since that day, but as each day passed without a single sign of Spyro or Cynder, his lingering hope had begun to wane. There had been neither sight nor sound of Spyro, Cynder or Ignitus since they left for the Belt of Fire, and Sparx was getting worried. But the tolling bell reached his ears and hope sprang anew into his heart.

"They're back?" Sparx shot out of the room and headed for the lookout tower as fast as he could fly. "No way!"

He passed several dragons in the hallway, and it took all his skill to weave around them without crashing headlong into a scaly snout. Most of them stopped as soon as the tolling bell reached their ears, and soon Sparx was leading a whole group of excited dragons out to the front of the city. He strained his wings as hard as he could, desperately hoping it wasn't a false sighting.

"Please…" he whispered. "Please let it be them."

The tolling bell became louder as Sparx neared the lookout tower. Dragons from all over the city, cheetahs at their sides and moles at their heels, were running for the battlements and the surrounding wall, eager to get a glimpse of the returning heroes. Sparx angled upwards and shot towards the lookout dragon and his perch on top of the lookout tower. From up here he had a brilliant view of the surrounding countryside for miles. But Sparx had eyes for only one thing, and that was the approaching speck in the distance.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, Sparx saw that there were in fact two specks in the distance and they were coming fast in the direction of Warfang. It wasn't until they were fully in sight that Sparx recognised them, and the hope that had been rising in his chest burst into the strongest feeling of joy he'd felt in ages. There was no mistaking them. Flying homewards, their heads held high and their scales glistening like gems in the sunlight, were two returning heroes.

Sparx shot towards them without a second thought, fighting back tears of joy. Never had he been so happy to see his dragon brother in his entire life. Even the sight of Cynder, who he had once feared and despised, made his heart swell with happiness. Spyro's lilac eyes lit up at the sight of Sparx and a grin spread across his muzzle. Sparx spread his arms wide and flew straight into Spyro's face, hugging the dragon's nose with all he had.

"Spyro! Spyro, buddy!" Sparx sobbed, burying his face in Spyro's purple scales. "You crazy, stupid, lump of a purple thing! You did it! You did it, Spyro!"

Spyro hovered in midair, laughing and unable to stop a tear from leaking out of the corner of his eye, "I missed you, too, Sparx!"

Cynder chuckled, covering her mouth with her paw as she hovered beside Spyro.

Sparx let go of Spyro for a moment and slapped his muzzle sharply, "Who said I missed you, you purple lump?"

Spyro and Cynder both laughed as Sparx spread his arms to the black dragoness.

"Cynder! You're back! I knew you could do it!" he grinned. "I knew I could entrust you with the safety of my fat lump of a brother."

A blush spread across Cynder's cheeks and she turned her eyes bashfully away from Spyro, "We did it together."

"She's right," Spyro smiled at her and her blush deepened, before turning back to Sparx. "We couldn't have done it without each other."

The sound of cheering reached their ears, causing all three of them to look down at Warfang. It seemed the whole population had gathered on the wall to welcome the heroes home, and their cheers filled the midday sky. Spyro felt his heart swell with joy and he turned triumphantly to Cynder, whose ecstatic expression was identical to his own.

"We're home, Cynder. We're home."

Upon landing, Spyro and Cynder were instantly flocked by the citizens of Warfang, all eager for a chance to thank and congratulate the two dragons. They were pushed aside, however, as a golden-furred cheetah cleared the path for a large, stocky green dragon. Spyro recognised the two instantly.

"Hunter! Terrador!" he called, overjoyed at the sight of the cheetah and the guardian.

"Spyro," Hunter knelt down before him, relief evident in his eyes, "it is good to see you alive and well. Some of us have been fearing the worst."

"Yes, you gave us quite the scare when you neglected to return for almost a week," Terrador's deep voice washed over the crowd, strangely calming. "But, come, we can talk more once we are away from this impatient horde. Volteer and Cyril are waiting for you."

Spyro didn't argue, following Terrador out of the crowd with Cynder beside him and Sparx trailing behind. Hunter took the lead, ushering dragons and cheetahs out of the way as the small entourage headed for the large building that took up nearly a third of the western wall. This was the Grand Atrium, a meeting place for a council that didn't exist. There were less than sixty dragons in all that inhabited Warfang, far too little than what it should have been. The mighty dragon race had suffered greatly at the claws of Malefor. With so few dragons, there were little to no candidates for members of a council.

Spyro found himself gazing in awe at the colossal columns of sandstone that lined the walls of the circular atrium, rising from floor to guttering. Two large doors that gleamed of polished oak were set into the stone, adorned with brass knockers in the shape of dragon's heads. Terrador led them forwards, setting his broad shoulder against the magnificent doors and pushing them inwards. They creaked slowly open, revealing the dark interior of the atrium's entrance hall, allowing the earth guardian and his entourage entrance.

The doors closed independently once all five of them were inside, and instantly the hall was granted light. Set into the arching roof above them was a series of domed, orange gems that bathed the hall in an almost golden light. Spyro and Cynder turned their eyes to the walls and the painted patterns that decorated them. The tiles beneath their paws were white; however, in the light, they appeared to be made of molten gold.

Terrador led them onwards without a word, until the hall opened out into a vast circular room so large it could have comfortably housed over fifty dragons. The room far above them curved delicately into a dome, depicting a glorious painted scene. Painted dragons looked down upon the chamber and its inhabitants, their eyes seeming to twinkle in the light as though they were real. Spyro gazed upwards in awe, barely aware of Cynder doing the same beside him. Their awed trance was broken however, by a call from across the room.

"Spyro! Cynder!" a large yellow dragon was hurrying towards them. "Simply marvellous to see you alive and well!"

"Volteer," Spyro greeted, pleased to see the electricity guardian once more. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, young dragon," interrupted another voice as the ice guardian made his way towards Spyro, "it gives all of us great pleasure to see you again."

Cyril turned his eyes on Cynder, "And of course, young Cynder, let us not forget the part you played. To see you both again, amongst us once more, is more than we could ever have hoped for."

Cynder and Spyro couldn't help but smile in the face of the guardians' gratitude. Hunter was nodding in agreement, his arms folded as he regarded the two heroic dragons with soft eyes. Sparx patted Spyro's horn gratefully.

"Way to go, bro," he said softly, grinning.

"Thank you," Spyro murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "Thank you. It's great to be back again."

He felt Cynder move closer to him, her warmth tingling through his scales as she rubbed against him. He tried to no avail to stop himself from blushing, averting his eyes to the side. Cyril nodded slowly, smiling down at the young dragons.

"Of course, it is wonderful to have you back with us…" the ice dragon murmured.

"But where might Ignitus be?" Volteer asked, finishing Cyril's sentence for him.

Spyro froze as though ice had just coursed through his veins. Even Cynder's warmth felt as though it could no longer reach him. A horrible heaviness descended on his heart and the world seemed to melt away around him. Everything had happened so fast. After the gruelling fight with Malefor, the strain of exerting all his power to restore the world, and the flight back to Warfang, Spyro had almost forgotten about the fire guardian and his fate. But just hearing his name again was enough to make Spyro feel as if he was breaking into pieces. Like delicate glass, Spyro felt his heart fall and smash into thousands of shattered shards.

Spyro didn't need to speak. His expression said it all, and the other guardians felt their spirits sink as though a deadweight had just been set upon them. They exchanged glances, each hanging on a lingering hope that Spyro's silence didn't mean what they thought it did. Cynder curled her tail around Spyro's, nudging his cheek gently in an attempt to raise his bowed head. He looked up at her with moist eyes and she gave a gentle reassuring nod that encouraged him to look up into the eyes of the three guardians.

"Ignitus…" Spyro began, his voice shaking as he forced himself to look his mentors in the eyes. "Ignitus…isn't coming back."

Their reactions were somewhat mixed. Volteer bowed his head with a mournful moan, Cyril looked as though he'd been slapped and merely stood looking dismally stunned, while Terrador closed his eyes for a moment as though to will away the unwanted pain. The earth guardian reopened his eyes seconds later, looking solemnly down at the young dragons.

"How did this happen, Spyro?" he prompted gently, breaking the heavy silence.

Spyro turned his face away from Terrador, unable to stop the hot tears that were escaping from his eyes, "H-He…he gave his life to save us. In the Belt of Fire…I couldn't save him…I couldn't do anything. He did everything he could for me and I…I couldn't even save him!"

"It wasn't your fault, Spyro," Cynder insisted, blinking tears away and draping a wing across Spyro's back. "There was nothing you could have done. It was Ignitus's choice. He did it for you."

Terrador nodded slowly, "Cynder is right, young dragon. Do not blame yourself for the decisions that Ignitus has made. In saving you, he has saved us all."

"Well said, Terrador," Cyril agreed, trying to appear supportive although the news had mourned him greatly.

"Yes, I'm sure Ignitus wouldn't want us mourning his heroic entrance into the next life," Volteer raised his head, eyes unusually bright. "Let us not think of it as an ending, but as a beginning! A beginning for a new age of dragons!"

But Spyro merely bowed his head, shame and grief weighing him down. Hunter stepped forwards, kneeling down in front of the purple dragon and raising his head with his paw. Spyro found himself gazing into the cheetah's solemn, yet kind eyes.

"Listen to the guardians, Spyro," he insisted kindly, but firmly. "You cannot blame yourself for everything bad that has occurred in this war. You were, and still are, the hope of the dragon race. Even my own race looks up to you as our revered saviour. Everyone will look to you in times of darkness, hoping you will light the way with a reassuring smile. Never look down, never dwell on past mistakes, stand strong in the face of danger, and give hope to the world. You cannot lose yourself to despair. If not for your own sake, then for the rest of this world be strong."

Spyro nodded slowly, but his expression was hesitant, "You expect me to be happy in the face of others, even if I feel I am breaking up inside? If this is what it means to be a hero…I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can stand alone in front of the whole world."

"You won't _be _alone," Cynder cut in, staring him firmly in the eye. "I'll be beside you. Always. And so will everyone here."

Spyro looked at her in surprise, feeling his cheeks burn. He looked away as she smiled and let his eyes wander over the faces of those who looked upon him. The guardians, Hunter and even Sparx; they were all there, beside him. And they always would be. Spyro felt his heart warm, new strength drawn from the smiles of his friends. Yes, Ignitus was gone, but Spyro wasn't alone. He smiled gratefully at Cynder and nodded.

"I understand. Thank you. All of you. You are the ones who always gave me strength to go on. I couldn't have come this far without you."

"Nor could we, young dragon," Terrador replied, "nor could we."

* * *

Spyro was glad to crawl into his room and sleep that night. It had been a long day, tiring both mentally and physically. After meeting with the guardians, Spyro had been ushered to the top of the western wall to give a victory speech to the waiting crowd. In front of a sea of expectant faces, Spyro had almost lost his nerve. But Cynder had been beside him the whole time and somehow he'd managed to get through it, proudly ensuring the citizens of Warfang that the war was finally over. That had been followed by much stamping of feet and cheers from the crowd.

But the celebration had been postponed in order to hold a small memorial service for the late fire guardian, Ignitus. Spyro again had stood up before the crowd to speak of his mentor's selfless sacrifice. It had been hard to remain strong and not break down in tears, but somehow he had managed. After that, the celebrations had commenced, lasting well into the night. Spyro had managed to escape the enthusiastic crowd and was now settling down in his room for a well-earned sleep.

The purple dragon curled up on a large yellow cushion in the corner of his room, ignoring the noise from outside as dragons continued to celebrate. Sparx hovered down to rest between Spyro's horns, folding his arms and closing his eyes. Half asleep, Spyro vaguely wondered if Cynder was still out celebrating. However, all his thoughts seemed to evaporate as he slipped into the peaceful realm of slumber, Sparx snoring away on his head.

When Cynder finally came looking for him, she found him fast asleep in his room with a peaceful smile on his face. She sat and watched him for a while, listening to his steady breathing as he slept on, undisturbed by the noise of the celebrations outside. Only when she became too tired to keep her eyes open did Cynder retreat to her own room to rest her weary body. Outside, the last stragglers finished their celebrations with a final, triumphant roar and the city of Warfang delved into the realm of slumber.

Spyro woke up late the next morning. The sun was already high in the sky by the time he rose from his slumber. Sparx was nowhere to be seen and sunlight was pouring through the windows, lighting up the room. Spyro yawned widely, shaking sleep from his head before looking around his room. It had been prepared for him before he and Cynder had returned to Warfang, but this was the first chance he'd had to inspect it.

There were three cushions laid out along one side, all a yellow colour, including the one he was lying on at that very moment. A stone archway led out to a small balcony, and it was through that archway that the sun was now streaming. Across the other side of his room were a large silver chest and a wooden bookshelf with a sparse array of books.

Spyro looked at the chest curiously, wondering what could be inside. Deciding to check, he heaved himself to his feet and wandered over to it. The silver lid was lighter than it looked and Spyro flipped it open easily, gazing down at the glimmering contents of the chest. Armour. He blinked in surprise, lifting a glimmering black helmet from the chest to inspect it. This was a piece of armour he'd found himself, during his many adventures.

Looking back at the other pieces, Spyro noted that most of them were indeed the pieces of armour he'd collected in his travels. Someone must have gathered them all together and placed them in this chest. He was just wondering whom it might have been when the door was pushed open and Cynder poked her head into his room.

"Ah, you're up, Spyro!" she greeted, smiling. "I was just about to come check on you. Why don't you come down for breakfast? The guardians have all been waiting."

'_They were all waiting for me?_' Spyro wondered, looking sheepish.

Cynder beckoned to him, turning around and looking back over her shoulder at him, "Come on."

"Coming," he said quickly, snapping the chest shut and hurrying after the black dragoness.

Sure enough, when Cynder led Spyro into the main hall, the guardians were indeed waiting. Spyro felt the blood rush to his cheeks as they all turned to look at him, embarrassed at having spent half the morning fast asleep. He dipped his head quickly, hiding the blush and bowing to his old mentors.

"Forgive me! I didn't realise I had slept so late!"

But Cyril reassured him with a soft chuckle, "Nonsense, young Spyro, you're not the _only _one sleeping late today. Most of the city has yet to rise from their slumber. It is expected though; they were up half the night celebrating." He snorted, and added disapprovingly, "Vagabonds."

Spyro laughed and sighed with relief. The guardians weren't angry with him, after all. He looked around the hall, noticing the complete absence of any other dragon, mole or cheetah. There was no noisy chatter from the streets outside, either. Warfang had indeed gotten off to a sleepy start.

"Are you hungry, Spyro?" Cynder asked, nudging him with her shoulder.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered in surprise, looking at her, "I guess I am."

"Forgive us, Spyro, we forgot you have yet to eat," Terrador apologised, before guiding Spyro towards a door on the far left of the hall. "The kitchen is through there. I'm sure the moles will cook you up something. They, at least, were up at the crack of dawn."

Spyro nodded gratefully and trotted off towards the kitchen, leaving the guardians and Cynder to wait for him. Hesitantly, Spyro pushed the door inwards and found himself peering into a pristine room of glimmering, polished white. There were about seven moles in the kitchens, some barely visible over the bench tops, and all with large, white chef hats that almost obscured their eyes. Spyro gazed curiously, forgetting for a moment why he was there, until a mole sporting the largest chef hat of all addressed him.

"Master Spyro!" he crowed, almost toppling off the stool he was standing on that allowed him to reach the bench top. "Such an honour to have you in our humble kitchen."

He hopped down from the stool and tottered over to the purple dragon, dusting off his paws, "What can we get for you?"

Spyro thought for a moment, "I'm not sure. I've never been in a kitchen before. What kind of food do you prepare?"

Indeed, back in his childhood days in the swamp he had eaten mostly bugs, fungi and other various insects. Even on his travels his diet hadn't been much different, although as he had gotten larger he'd been able to snag the occasional lizard or mouse for his supper. Never had someone prepared his food for him.

The mole scratched his head, jilting his hat and causing it to sit lop-sided on his furry skull, "Hmm, been living in the wild a lot, haven't you? Not surprising that you've never eaten _civilized _food before. Don't you worry, we'll whip something up for you."

Spyro nodded slowly and watched the mole turn to berate his fellow chefs.

"Quit sitting around, you lazy moles," he ordered, clapping his paws together in a business-like manner. "We've got a dragon to feed! Now hop to it!"

The moles didn't argue. In fact they moved faster than any mole Spyro had ever seen in their hurry to serve the mighty, purple dragon. Moments later, the kitchen was filled with tantalising scents the likes of which Spyro had never smelled before. He felt his mouth watering and the tip of his tail twitched in anticipation. His stomach grumbled impatiently, but it only had to wait a few more moments before Spyro was presented with a dish. He stared at the contents laid out of the silver platter, wondering just what it was and why it smelt so good. The mole who had first addressed Spyro, obviously the head chef, waved an inviting paw.

"Go on," he prompted, "give it a try."

Spyro needed no more invitation than that and dipped his head to delicately bite off a piece of what was obviously meat. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise and it took everything he had not to wolf it down without restraint. Regardless of how much he attempted to restrain himself, the meal was gone in a rather short amount of time and he sat licking his muzzle feeling particularly satisfied. The moles dashed forward and carried the empty platter away, leaving the head chef to address the purple dragon again.

"I trust it was to your liking?" he asked, an amused glint in his eye.

Spyro nodded quickly, "Yeah, it was great! But, uh…what exactly _was _it?"

The mole chuckled. "Never had this sort of meat before? It's deer, roasted with our very own herbs and spices. Our specialty."

"Deer?" Spyro asked, thinking of the graceful animals he had once seen somewhere in the valley of Avalar. "I never would have thought of eating one of them. How do you catch it?"

"As you can see, we moles are much too small for hunting such creatures. The dragons hunt them for us and bring them back. Lately the cheetahs have been helping out too. Their bows and arrows can take deer out from a distance. Very skilled, those cheetahs," the mole explained. "Will that be all today, master Spyro?"

"Yes," Spyro smiled, "thank you."

"Any time."

Spyro paused just as he was about to pull the door open and turned back to the chef curiously. The mole looked back inquisitorially.

"One more thing. What is your name?" Spyro asked politely.

The mole looked shocked that Spyro had even asked. It wasn't very often a dragon asked his name, let alone a famous purple dragon at that. He whipped off his hat with a flourish and bowed low.

"Such an honour! To have the famous purple dragon ask for my name!" he crowed, embarrassing Spyro. "I am called Quin!"

Spyro smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Quin. I'll remember that name."

He turned and left the kitchen, letting the door close softly behind him and leaving a flustered Quin feeling very honoured. For the next week, Quin would boast to anyone who would listen how the great purple dragon had actually asked his name.

The guardians didn't hesitate to get straight to the point as soon as Spyro returned from the kitchens. Friendly banter was forgone for the moment, and Spyro and Cynder listened in silence as the guardians spoke in turn. Terrador, as usual, was the first to speak.

"I won't beat about the bush, Spyro," he gazed solemnly down at the younger dragons. "We've been waiting far too long for you to return. Although I would prefer to allow you to rest, I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise in this instance to procrastinate."

Spyro gazed up at the earth master, not entirely sure what Terrador was getting at. He exchanged a curious look with Cynder, who seemed to understand no better than Spyro did. Terrador beckoned to him, turning his back and guiding him over to one of the large, arching windows that lined the walls of the hall. Spyro followed him curiously and found himself gazing out over the streets of Warfang. The sun was quite high in the sky, and by this time most of the citizens had risen from their sleep. And yet, somehow, the city still seemed empty.

"You see this, Spyro?" Terrador asked softly, turning his eyes from the purple dragon to the view of the city. "This is our city. The great dragon city of Warfang. Tell me, what do you see?"

Spyro stared, taking in the buildings all crafted from yellow stone, the streets lined with cobblestones, the mighty wall and battlements in the distance. But there was one thing that stood out to him the most.

"Where are all the dragons?" he murmured. "If this is the great dragon city, there should be hundreds of them. But it all seems so…empty."

Terrador nodded slowly, "Yes, you are right. And that is just what we need to discuss."

He shepherded Spyro away from the window with his wide, brown wing, turning to face the other guardians and Cynder. The purple dragon moved swiftly to her side, giving her a strained nervous smile that she returned instantly.

"As you have seen, Spyro," Cyril began, taking over from Terrador, "the dragon population of Warfang, and perhaps, too, of the whole world, has suffered greatly. With so few dragons there is the fear they we will become an endangered species. If our species is to survive, something must be done to remedy this situation."

He gave Volteer a quick glance, telling him to take over, which he readily did.

"In light of the recent cataclysmic hostilities, it is expected that the dragon population be significantly decreased," the lightning guardian spoke swiftly, always sounding as though he'd been over-charged and needed to deplete his energy amount. "However, as powerful as Malefor was, it seems near impossible that he could have extinguished the entire population of our race. There is a large possibility that members of the dragon race are still living somewhere on the outskirts of civilisation."

"In other words," Terrador cut in, noticing Spyro's slightly confused expression, "we don't believe that the citizens of Warfang are the last surviving members of the dragon race. Somewhere, beyond the borders of our city, there must be other groups of dragons who have been in hiding since the war escalated. Wherever they are, we believe it best for our race if we find them and bring them to Warfang."

"So you want us to go out and find them!" Spyro asked triumphantly, catching on.

"You among others," Cyril nodded. "There are a few able-bodied dragons in this city that will be willing to assist you."

"The plan is to send at least three search parties out in different directions," Terrador explained. "Search long and hard. They must be hidden well for Malefor to have overlooked them."

Spyro nodded swiftly, eager to be on the way now that he was refreshed, "So, when do we go?"

Terrador looked out of the eastern window, looking towards the bell tower that rose far above the other buildings. From this distance it was impossible to tell if the lookout dragon was at his post or not.

"At midday, the bell will toll three times. That means that a meeting will be called out in the main courtyard. Make sure to be there, Spyro, Cynder. From there, you and the assigned search parties will have one hour to prepare yourselves before you begin your journey."

"For now," he turned his warm, brown eyes on the adolescent dragons, "go and enjoy yourselves. You deserve it, after all."


	2. The Search Begins

**2. The Search Begins**

Spyro was eager to explore Warfang, even more so with Cynder at his side. Their first visit to the mighty dragon city had been brief and filled with fighting, when Malefor's forces had almost forced their way past the almost impregnable walls. It was here he and Cynder had fought the golem and finally destroyed it. If they had had the chance Spyro would have liked to explore the city back then, even if it had been partially destroyed by the war.

"Where do you think Sparx has gone?" Spyro asked Cynder, noticing the absence of his glowing friend.

"I'm not sure," she looked around, as though expecting to see the dragonfly appear suddenly. "I haven't seen him this morning. He was gone when I came to check on you. I'm sure he can look after himself."

Spyro gave a lopsided grin, "I suppose you're right, as long as he doesn't cause too much trouble."

Cynder laughed in reply, agreeing that the yellow dragonfly seemed to attract much more trouble than was necessary. She watched Spyro as he looked around the city, his violet eyes taking in every small detail in interest. But Cynder had eyes only for him, totally ignoring their surroundings as she watched his purple form.

Her eyes grazed over his well-built body, his shining, purple scales and the rippling muscles beneath. His horns and underbelly glimmered as though they were made of gold, reflecting the sunlight and giving his whole body a heroic shine. Watching Spyro, Cynder thought back to the time they had defeated Malefor, remembering his face when he had turned and told her that he knew what he had to do.

'_I love you.'_

Cynder felt her cheeks burn and turned her face into the cool wind as her words came back to her. She had whispered them so softly to him, the crumbling world as loud as an earthquake around them, that she was unsure if he had heard her. But she had meant those words with all her heart. Inspecting his face shyly, Cynder couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. Surely he would have said something if he had heard her whisper, wouldn't he?

Spyro turned to face her quite suddenly and she jerked in shock, the blood rushing to her face as she realised she had been caught staring. But Spyro didn't seem to notice a thing, his smile as wide as ever.

"Come on!" he urged eagerly, "I'd like to see the gardens, wouldn't you? We'd better hurry before the bell chimes."

Cynder got over her shock slowly, hoping her blush wouldn't show against her dark scales and dearly glad that Spyro couldn't read minds. She nodded shyly and his grinned widened.

"Race you, Cynder!" he called, leaping away from her without warning.

"Hey!" she yelled after him, watching him gallop across the cobblestones, "you cheater! Wait for me!"

Spyro reached the gardens first, thanks to his head start, but Cynder wasn't far behind. With one huge leap she closed the gap between them and barrelled into the purple dragon, sending the both of them tumbling over onto the grass. They landed in a heap of wings and scales, laughing and breathing heavily until Spyro realised his position. In the tumble he had somehow managed to land on top of Cynder and his chest was now pressed against hers, effectively pinning her to the ground.

The blood rushed to his cheeks as she gazed up at him, and he thought his heart might have skipped a few beats. He got off her quickly, burning with embarrassment and allowing her to get to her feet. They laughed nervously, turning bashful eyes away from each other. Cynder's heart was beating so erratically she was sure it was going to burst out of her chest. Spyro finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"B-beautiful isn't it?" he stammered, gesturing to the gardens laid out before them.

"What?" Cynder yelped, still shaken from the semi-intimate moment, until she realised Spyro was talking about the gardens and nodded quickly.

The cobblestone streets had given way to a very large circular expansion of grass towards the centre of the city. Dotted here and there around the grass were flowering bushes and small trees, but the largest garden of all was the one in the centre. Surrounded by delicate yellow-flowered bushes, a wispy tree extended its branches to the sky. Dotted along the branches were hundreds of small white flowers, as delicate as snowflakes. It seemed to glow in the light, as though the flowers were alive, like little white fairies. Cynder gazed at the beautiful sight with awe, completely entranced by the tree.

Spyro looked from her to the tree and slowly walked towards it. Cynder watched him in surprise as he rose onto his hind legs and gently plucked one of the flowers from the branches. He held it delicately with the stem between his teeth as he stepped back towards Cynder. She remained stock still as he moved closer to her and thought her heart might stop when his muzzle brushed against her cheek. He gently placed the flower between two of her horns on the left side of her face and stepped away.

"It suits you," he murmured, trying not to blush as he observed how the delicate, white flower clashed magnificently with her shining, black scales.

Cynder managed a smile, her heart pounding and her cheeks burning. He was very close, his nose almost touching hers, a strangely tender expression on his face. Cynder leant closer, bumping his snout gently as she let her eyes droop shut.

_Gong._

The two dragons jerked in surprise as the deep knell of a bell resounded throughout the gardens.

_Gong._

There it was again, sending tremors through the ground and reverberating in their sensitive ears. Spyro blushed and turned away from Cynder, the intimate moment ungraciously broken by the tolling bell that called them towards the courtyard. Cynder turned away from him too, hoping he couldn't see her blush, and wishing the bell had held off for at least another minute longer.

_Gong._

At the sound of the third knell Spyro turned in the direction of the courtyard, somewhat reluctantly.

"Come on," he called to Cynder, "we should get going. Terrador wouldn't want us to be late."

"R-right," Cynder stammered in reply.

She quickly fell into step beside Spyro, ensuring, however, that there was a considerable gap between them. Far too embarrassed by what had almost transpired between them, Cynder dared not get too close to him, nor even look at him. But if she had been brave enough to spare him a look, she would have noticed the frequent glances he kept sending her way. However, the bashful expression on his face went unnoticed by the black dragoness.

The courtyard was near the centre of the city, a large paved ground surrounded by small trees that grew from miniature gardens set into the cobblestone walkway. The far side of the courtyard was occupied by a stage, a rectangular area carved from stone that was elevated almost half a full-grown dragon's height off the ground. The guardians were already there, accompanied, surprisingly, by the glowing Sparx. Hunter stood at the head of a large group of cheetahs, alongside the stocky form of Chief Prowlus.

As Spyro and Cynder entered the courtyard, they were quickly called onto the stage as the rest of the dragon population approached.

Spyro clambered up the shallow steps onto the stage, Cynder in tow, and took his place beside Terrador. The earth guardian gave him an approving nod, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Good to see you arrived on time, young warrior. I had almost expected you to neglect your duties out of need for a respite. Your punctuality is impressive. When I was your age I shirked my duties quite often. That is the way with young dragons."

Terrador straightened up and said no more, leaving Spyro slightly confused. He glanced at Cynder, but she merely shrugged her shoulders and quickly averted her eyes. Sighing, Spyro turned to face the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard. No sooner had he raised his eyes, however, was his vision obscured by something shining and yellow.

"Spyro, buddy, where have you been all morning?" Sparx berated him, leaning on the purple dragon's muzzle. "I've been looking all over for you! Old green stuff here told me to stop 'flitting around' and that you'd be here at midday. So, what's the news? What're we doing here, huh?"

He gestured lazily at the gathered crowd, but Spyro only snorted in answer, causing Sparx to fly off his muzzle. Spyro gazed up at the dragonfly, finally able to see him now that he wasn't so close.

"You'll find out in a minute, Sparx. Just be patient and listen."

Sparx folded his arms in reply, a pout forming on his lips. Spyro was about to tell him to stop pouting, when Terrador's booming voice cut the air.

"Dragons and moles of Warfang, Cheetahs of Avalar," he called, instilling instant silence on the chattering crowd, "we have called you here today to address a predicament our city and world is facing. Take a look around you, and tell me, how many dragons can you see?"

Heads turned as dragons turned their eyes upon each other, and cheetahs gazed at the surrounding reptilian beasts. There were far too few, perhaps fifty at the most. All eyes turned once again to Terrador, who didn't wait for an answer to his question.

"There are too few of us, my comrades! Our race is in danger, and only we can salvage what is left of our species!"

He paused, letting the effect of his words sink in to the surrounding crowd. Dragons had turned to mutter to one another, their faces registering what could only be shock.

"Do not despair, however! Not all hope is lost! The world is a large place, full of many holes to hide in. Somewhere, beyond the boundaries of our city, dragons must still exist, in hiding! I propose…" he paused for another moment, his emerald eyes almost glowing, "that we find them!"

The mutterings started up again, whispered words hanging in the air, indecipherable to the dragons standing on the stage. The noise made Spyro agitated and he swished his tail irately, waiting for them to stop. But he didn't have to wait. Terrador spoke again, cutting the mutterings off almost instantly.

"Do you not agree, comrades?"

Silence fell. It was Chief Prowlus who spoke first, his arms folded against his chest.

"That is all well and good, dragon, but how do you propose we find them? I'm not having my troops wander the world in a fruitless effort to scrounge up more dragons!"

Spyro scowled. It seemed Prowlus's attitude hadn't changed at all. Terrador turned his eyes on the cheetah chief.

"Chief Prowlus, I can understand your hesitance. However, the race of dragons may be on the brink of extinction, and we need all the help we can get to save our species. I will not force you to assist. All I can do is ask."

A silence fell between the cheetah and the guardian, until Prowlus averted his eyes with a bad-tempered huff.

"I will not lead my troops on this search," he growled. "Unless there is someone else willing to lead my tribe…"

"I will."

Every head turned to the golden-furred cheetah who had spoken. Hunter looked back without hesitation, gripping his bow, and repeated himself.

"I will. I will lead a force to seek out any dragons that remain in hiding."

Prowlus only glared at him as the majority of his cheetahs nodded in agreement with Hunter's choice. Terrador smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Hunter."

"Now," Terrador turned his eyes on the dragons once more, "have you come to a decision? Will you assist in finding our hidden comrades?"

The decision was unanimous. Every dragon yelled out in agreement, enough to raise a roof if there had been one. Spyro's shoulders relaxed in relief, and he cracked a smile. The guardians nodded approvingly.

"Spyro."

The purple dragon looked up at the sound of his name to see that Terrador was looking at him.

"Do you accept leadership of a search party?"

He nodded swiftly, "I do, Terrador."

The earth guardian nodded, "Good. Cynder…"

"I want to go with him," she said swiftly, blushing when she realised how quickly she'd spoken. "Uh…if that's…okay."

"Of course," his green eyes smiled at her and she felt she might collapse with relief. There was no way she was letting Spyro out of her sight, not after all they'd been through together.

"I will need volunteers for two search parties!" Terrador roared to the crowd. "One shall be under the command of Spyro and Cynder! I will need someone to volunteer to command the second search party."

The guardians, along with Spyro, Cynder and Sparx, waited tensely as the dragons talked amongst themselves. Eventually, after much muttering, twenty dragons stepped forwards from the throng. Terrador looked them over approvingly, before asking his next question.

"Which of you will lead the second search party?"

The dragon that stepped forward was older than Spyro and Cynder, well into his adulthood. There were little to no younger dragons in the city, and certainly none as young as Spyro and Cynder.

"I volunteer," the dragon said, his purple eyes serious. "My name is Feldun. It is an honour to assist my species."

Spyro considered the dragon with mild interest. His scales were of a dusky blue, darker than the much lighter blue of his underbelly and wing membrane. He was well built, but slender, and Spyro could tell just from his colouring that he was an ice dragon. Terrador didn't object. Instead he gazed down at the remaining nineteen dragons.

"Ten of you," he paused, pointing with a claw at half of the dragons, "will assist Feldun. The other nine of you are to be under the command of the purple dragon, and Cynder. They may be young, but I assure you they are not inexperienced. Heed their orders."

He waited until the dragons had split themselves up to stand behind their respective leaders. At a nod from Terrador, Cynder and Spyro moved down from the stage to stand with their assigned group. They gazed expectantly at the guardians.

"You have an hour to prepare yourselves. Meet me back here when the bell tolls once, and you will begin your journey."

When the search parties did return to the courtyard an hour later, Terrador was the only one waiting for them. There were three groups: a troop of cheetahs under the command of Hunter, and the two groups of dragons led by Spyro, Cynder and Feldun. Terrador looked them over, noticing that some of the dragons had donned armour and were looking as serious as if they were heading out to war.

"Hunter," Terrador addressed him first, "take your troops and scout the valley of Avalar, the forest beyond and up near the catacombs. You may be lucky to find dragons there."

He turned to Feldun, "Feldun, take your group and head out past the ruins of the old dragon city. Search the plateaus and forests beyond the dam."

Lastly he addressed Spyro, "Spyro, Cynder, I want you to head back to the dragon temple and along the Silver River. It's a long flight over the sea, but I'm sure you'll manage. Search everywhere you can for signs of dragon life."

Spyro nodded without a word and Terrador stepped back to gaze upon the assembled search parties. Every eye stared back at him, filled with determination. The old warrior nodded sharply, just once, and every dragon spread his wings.

"Good luck, comrades. Bring us back new hope for our species," he tossed his head, eyes shining, and Spyro was reminded suddenly of Ignitus. "Now, go! Fly, dragons! Good luck!"

Amidst a great flapping of wings, the two groups of dragons sprang into the sky and left only dust in their wake. Hunter saluted Terrador sharply before gesturing to his troops and hurrying off to the gate in the southern wall that would lead to the Forbidden Passage back to the valley of Avalar.

Terrador turned to watch the retreating forms of the dragons, his eyes following the purple dragon and the black dragoness who flew at his side. It was all he could do to wish them luck.

* * *

The world was indeed a large place. Spyro vaguely remembered the first time he had learnt to fly, when he had flown the distance across the ocean to Dante's Freezer. But even that paled in comparison to the lengthy flight that now faced them. He hadn't realized the ocean between the Mainland and the Dragon Temple could be so vast. Even after flying for hours, no land came into sight.

"Hey, Spyro."

The purple dragon ignored the tiny voice beside his ear, his head full of old memories in the Dragon Temple.

"Spyro."

Ignitus had trained him there, taught him how to fight and to use the fire breath that he had discovered on his own. That place had been like a home to him. It was hard to believe he hadn't been back there for over three years.

"Spyro!"

What would it be like now, after three years of desertion? Maybe it would be overrun again with strange beasts, like it had been all those years ago. Maybe Ignitus would be there, waiting for them, to greet them with a smile and ask where they had been for so long. He had to be there, surely. The temple would be so empty without him.

"SPYRO!"

The force of the yell made Spyro's ears ring and he finally turned to look at whatever it was that had been calling his name. Sparx glowered at him, folding his tiny arms.

"I thought you'd gone deaf."

"What is it you want, Sparx?" Spyro asked ignoring the dragonfly's comment.

"Do you think we'll get to go to the swamp? You know…to see mum and dad?"

Spyro looked at Sparx in surprise. Never had he heard the dragonfly speak so seriously, with such longing in his voice. It was true, neither of them had returned to see the dragonflies who had raised them since they had first left the swamp all those years ago.

"Maybe," Spyro murmured, "I'm not sure. We've got a job to do, after all. But maybe…maybe we can stop by to see them."

Sparx nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought, "Do you think they'll be happy to see us?"

Spyro's head shot up in shock, "Of course they will! They're your parents Sparx, and…mine too, I guess. Of course they'll be happy."

"Yeah," Sparx grinned sheepishly, "don't know why I asked that."

Spyro smiled softly, gazing out over the waters. He turned around to see the nine other dragons, as well as Cynder, following close behind.

"Come on," he prompted, "we should be there soon."

No sooner had he spoken than Sparx gave a triumphant cry beside him, "Look, land!"

A chorus of gasps came from the dragons and Spyro breathed a sigh of relief. Sure enough, on the horizon, land was coming into view. Cynder strained her wings and moved up to Spyro's side, gazing thankfully at the green splodge of land on the horizon. Spyro turned his head slightly, to look at her from the corner of his eye. The sunlight glaring off her scales almost made her glow and he realised with a slight shock that the flower he'd given her was still pinned between two of her smaller horns.

His cheeks flushing, Spyro firmly set his eyes on the horizon and attempted to stop thinking about the black dragoness beside him. But she invaded his every thought and he found himself unable to think about anything else. Her gem-like black scales, her gleaming red chest, her vibrant emerald eyes, everything about her was enticing and beautiful. But what Spyro liked most was that it felt completely natural to have her by his side.

"Where should we land?" the sound of her voice jolted him from his stupor and he shook his thoughts from his head.

"Um…" he paused, considering her question for a moment. "The Dragon Temple is a good place to start. Although, it's been three years, I don't know what it's going to be like now."

Cynder noticed the nervous edge in his voice and smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure it will be fine, Spyro. Everything will be just like it used to be."

But Spyro knew that wasn't true.

'_Not everything,' _he thought sadly, _'nothing will be the same without Ignitus there.'_

They landed an hour later, as Spyro had suggested, on the balcony of the Dragon Temple. Most of the dragons who had accompanied Spyro and Cynder had never been to the temple before and were gazing around them, awed. Spyro gazed out over the balcony, at the forest beyond, split in two by the shimmering worm that was the Silver River. He had done this many times before, but it felt strange to be seeing this sight after such a long time away. And even more to know that Ignitus was not there beside him. His heart felt heavy.

"You okay?" he felt something warm brush up against his side and realised Cynder had come to stand beside him.

She was looking at him with concern in her emerald eyes, perhaps realising how it must feel for the purple dragon to finally returned here to this place he once called home.

"Y-Yeah…"he stuttered, "I'm fine."

He turned back to the other dragons, who were still inspecting the temple from the outside. Sparx hovered over to him.

"Hey, what should we do? Terrador never said where to search once we got here…"

"I want to search the temple," Spyro murmured back, "just to see if anything has changed since we last came here. We'll figure out what to do afterwards. Besides, it's almost nightfall. We should rest here."

Cynder and Sparx didn't argue and the purple dragon stepped forwards to address the nine other dragons that made up the rest of the search party. They all turned to him with expectant eyes.

"We will search the temple for now," Spyro began. "It is unlikely there will be any inhabitants, but I want to make sure. We will spend the night here and search the forests tomorrow. If anyone has any disagreements, speak them now."

It felt odd to be speaking with such command to dragons that were at least twice his age, but not one of them questioned Spyro's suggestion. It was a unanimous decision that they should spend the night in the Dragon Temple, one that none objected to. Without another word, Spyro led them towards the doors of the temple and entered its walls for the first time in over three years.

The inside was just as he remembered it. The great dragon statue dominated the room, reaching almost to the roof. Whenever the room was in use the statue would sink into the floor. Spyro vaguely remembered training here many years ago with the four guardians he had come to know so well. It seemed oddly different without the crude straw dummies littering the ground, objects he had once practised on.

Murmurs of admiration and awe came from his group as they gazed at the statue, but Spyro had seen it many times before and moved on with barely a glance at it. Cynder hurried at his heels, Sparx hovering behind her. The next room contained a flat green pool, with water as smooth and still as glass. This was the Pool of Visions, where certain dragons could see visions within its waters. Ignitus had been such a dragon, and Spyro too seemed to have picked up some of that talent.

But at that moment the purple dragon had no urge to consult the visions of the pool. He moved on, walking through every room in the temple and gazing into every nook and cranny until he was satisfied that nothing had changed at all. Nothing, that is, except for the absence of his mentor the fire guardian. Eventually he returned to the room where he had once slept, just off from the room containing the Pool of Visions. Cynder and the rest of the dragons followed him there.

"The temple is deserted," Spyro murmured, "as I expected. We will rest here for the night, and search the forests tomorrow."

The other dragons nodded without question and settled themselves on the floor, but Spyro didn't join them. He gazed blankly into the distance for a brief moment before turning and walking away. Cynder and Sparx exchanged anxious glances before they too hurried after the purple dragon.

They found him outside, sitting on the balcony and gazing out into the distance as the very last of the sun's rays disappeared from the sky. Only the moonlight lit up his violet scales and reflected from his eyes. Cynder couldn't help but notice how sad those eyes were. She approached and sat by his side, not saying a word. Sparx hovered down to rest on her head and for once she didn't complain. Silence passed between them for only minutes, and yet to Cynder they seemed like hours.

"Spyro?" she asked softly, finally.

"Hmm?"

"You're not alone, you know. I'm with you. So…so you don't have to be so sad. I prefer it when you smile."

Spyro stared at her, surprised at the sudden words, and suddenly realising just how he was acting. Coming here had brought up so many old memories, good and bad, and yet it seemed to have dashed the last bit of hope from his heart. Somehow he'd still insisted to himself that Ignitus was still alive. He had to be alive, somehow, somewhere. And subconsciously, without realising it, Spyro had convinced himself that the fire guardian would be waiting here at the Dragon Temple for him to return. But that had been a foolish thought, and it had only served to worsen his sadness when he finally realised that Ignitus wasn't there.

"I…" he stumbled over his words for a moment, unsure if he could speak them to her, unsure if she would understand, "I was so sure. I was so sure that he would be here. But…he's not. He's gone. He's really gone."

Spyro didn't have to say Ignitus's name for Cynder to know whom he was talking about. She just nodded in silent understand and hesitantly extended a wing across his back. Bowing his head, Spyro leant his shoulder against hers and found comfort within her embrace.

"It's okay to be sad," she whispered, barely aware now of Sparx who had fallen asleep on her head, "It's okay to feel like you're alone. But I will stay beside you no matter what. You will never be alone. Ignitus is with you too, within your heart. It's ok to feel sad, but you're not alone."

Spyro let his head lean against her chest and listened quietly to her beating heart. She stiffened in shock at this movement but let herself relax and enjoy the feeling of his body beside hers. It seemed in that instant that nothing in the world could possible spoil this moment.

"Cynder," he murmured, raising his head again to look her in the eyes, "thank you. For you, if nothing else, I will smile."

Nothing more was said between the two dragons on that night as they sat together, content beside one another, and gazed upon the moons.

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I really do appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^.^**


	3. A Place Once Called Home

**3. A Place Once Called Home**

The golden light filtered slowly between his flickering eyelids, bringing him back from a world of dreams and darkness. Spyro opened his eyes slowly, only to quickly shut them again when they were assaulted by light. Hesitantly he tried again and, blinking sleep from his eyes, raised his head from the ground.

The first thing he noticed was that he was quite warm, as though something soft and warm was pressed up against him. The second thing he noticed was the slight weight of something draped across his back. And the third thing he noticed was that Sparx was fast asleep on Cynder's head. Only then did it click in his mind.

Spyro's reaction was to jerk away from the black dragoness who had fallen asleep against him. Her wing slipped off his back as he scrambled away, but the movement wasn't enough to wake her. Sparx slept on, his snores hanging softly in the morning air. Spyro took a few deep breaths, calming his furiously beating heart, and turned his flushed face away from the sleeping Cynder.

After a few moments of silence, broken only by the snores of Sparx, Spyro turned his eyes back to her. Her eyes were closed in peaceful sleep as her ribs rose and fell gently with each breath. Spyro let his eyes wander over her body, eying the black scales that glimmered like jewels in the sunlight. He edged closer, suddenly wishing to feel her warmth beside him once again.

This feeling within him was strange and unfamiliar. It made his stomach feel as though he'd swallowed a thousand dragonflies, and caused his legs to become weak. It made his heart feel like it was growing bigger, so big it would burst, and it made his scales feel hot whenever he came near her. Such a strange ailment it was that he suffered from. Hesitantly he eased his body down beside the black dragoness, his eyes never leaving her peaceful face. She snuffled quietly in her sleep and Spyro couldn't help but smile.

'_I want her close to me…_' the thought echoed through his otherwise empty head. '_Is it possible that I…_'

'_I love you.'_

The memory caused Spyro's scales to heat up once more and his heart to skip a beat. He wasn't sure where it was from, whether he had dreamt it or not, but somehow those words always seemed to haunt him. Had it been Cynder who had spoken those words to him, so quiet they were like the hiss of the wind in his ear, or had it been but a spirit of his dreams? Spyro couldn't know if she had truly spoken those words to him, if that confession had truly passed her lips. If only he could ask her. But the very thought of it scared him.

Her eyelids flickered suddenly and Spyro jumped, sliding quickly away from her. Seconds later her eyelids slid upwards to reveal her emerald eyes. Blinking sleep from her eyes, Cynder raised her head and turned towards the purple dragon.

"Spyro?" she asked, stifling a yawn. "Did we stay out here all night?"

"Yeah," he answered, quickly averting his eyes, "I guess we did."

Yawning, Cynder tipped her head back, causing the still-asleep Sparx to slide down her neck. The dragonfly was woken uncomfortably when he landed sprawled on the ground beside Cynder. She looked down at him in surprise, wondering where he could have come from.

"Argh, what did you do that for?" Sparx scowled, rubbing the side of his head and glaring up at the black dragoness.

"Do what?" she asked, bewildered. "Where did you come from?"

Spyro stifled a chuckle, causing the dragonfly and dragoness to give him quizzical looks.

"He was sleeping on your head, Cynder. You just threw him off."

"Oh."

Sparx only glared at Cynder's sheepish expression and fluttered away from her, muttering about disrespectful dragons. Spyro gave him an amused look before turning back to Cynder. She gave another yawn and stretched out her body like a cat, spreading her wings to their full span. Spyro watched her silently, every other thought having suddenly been eradicated from his head.

"I suppose we should go wake the others," Cynder suggested, snapping Spyro from his trance.

Realisation suddenly hit Spyro as he remembered what he was doing here, back in the old Dragon Temple with a scout party of nine dragons. Those nine dragons at that moment were most likely still snoring the day away within the temple. Hastily agreeing, Spyro led Cynder back towards the temple, snatching Sparx up with his tail as he passed him.

"Hey! Let me go!" Sparx protested, but when he realised he had no chance of escaping Spyro's grasp he resigned himself to being carried back into the temple.

The other dragons were indeed still asleep, their bodies sprawled ungainly on the floor as their snores filled the room. Spyro heaved a sigh as he considered his sleeping search party and released Sparx from his hold. The dragonfly hovered up to Spyro's head, folding his arms and glowering disapprovingly at the sleeping room of dragons.

"What should we do? Wake them?" he suggested, shrugging his tiny shoulders.

Spyro raised a scaly eyebrow as he considered the dragonfly's suggestion, "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Like this," Sparx opened his mouth wide and yelled as loud as his vocal cords would allow. "WAKE UP!"

The echo of his yell bounced around the room for a few moments before dying away. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have any effect on the sleeping dragons. Sparx crossed his arms and pouted with annoyance. Cynder refrained from rolling her eyes, but Spyro chuckled at the dragonfly's failed attempt.

"Okay, let me try," he laughed, stopping to draw air in.

Seconds later he opened his jaws to let loose not a yell but a great roar that ricocheted off the walls and reverberated in the sensitive ears of every dragon present. Sparx covered his ears with his hands, screwing up his eyes against the pain of the extremely loud noise. The dragons awoke in a panic, scrambling upright with wings flared and eyes wide. The last echoes of his roar dying away, Spyro looked upon them approvingly.

"I see you're finally awake."

"Young dragon, do you really believe that was necessary?" complained one of the older dragons, waggling a claw in his ear as he scrunched his muzzle disapprovingly.

"Would you have preferred I let you sleep the day away?" Spyro asked. "We have a job to do, and I'm sure Terrador would prefer that job done sooner rather than later.'

Every eye in the room turned to him and he was tempted to spread his wings, just to make himself appear bigger to the dragons that were at least twice his size. However, despite his small stature and young age, there was no doubt that Spyro's command remained unchallenged. The older dragons nodded their heads in silent agreement, somewhat shamefaced in the face of the purple dragon's words. There was no telling from their expressions, though, whether any of them felt that having a leader half their age was humiliating. But, then again, he was the famous purple dragon of legend after all.

The moment of uncomfortable silence passed slowly between Spyro and the older dragons, until Spyro decided it was time to reveal his plan for the day. Of course, the purple dragon didn't really have a plan, but making up one as he went along was as good a solution as any.

"Now that we're all awake and ready, it's time we began the search that we were sent here to do," he began, trying to sound commanding. "Our best guideline is the Silver River. Wherever there is water, there will be life. I have lived in this area for a good part of my life, and I know it well enough."

He paused, noticing that the dragons were listening to his every word, intently waiting for his instruction. Cynder, too, was curiously waiting to hear what their course of action was to be.

"The Silver River runs downstream towards this temple from the poisonous forest in the south," at this he jerked his head towards the wall to his left, indicating which way the river was coming from. "By the time it reaches the temple the poison in the water has diluted and it is safe to drink."—Ignitus had told him this years ago—"Before it bypasses the temple, the river diverts into two. One section continues past the temple and back to the ocean. The other section," he paused and turned slightly, extending a wing towards the west, "runs westwards through the forest and marshes. Whether it eventually returns to the sea or not, I am uncertain. I am sure that, if there are any chances of dragon life on this island, it will be somewhere towards the west along that stretch of the Silver River. It is there I propose we begin our search."

Spyro fixed his search group with a hard stare, waiting to see if anyone argued against his suggestion. But they all nodded in affirmation, knowing that the purple dragon knew far more about this land than they did. Spyro sighed inwardly in relief.

"Well, let's get started then, shall we?"

Nine voices spoke up in eager agreement before heading towards the outside of the temple. Spyro waited until they had all exited the room before deciding to follow with Sparx hovering beside him. Cynder nudged him gently with her hips and he turned to see a subtle smirk upon her snout.

"That was well thought out, Mr. Strategist," she winked playfully. "Who knew there was a brain that intelligent stashed away in that purple head of yours?"

Spyro's cheeks flushed, "It wasn't all that intelligent. Most of it was just repeating what Ignitus told me a while ago. He was a good teacher…"

His voice trailed off quietly and his expression was replaced with one of sombre thought. Cynder nudged his shoulder gently.

"He taught you well."

Her smile could have outshone a thousand spirit gems and it was more than enough to get Spyro's heart racing. The look in her eyes when they met his was enough to carry away the heavy feeling that had settled upon his heart. Remembering his promise of the night before, Spyro returned her smile with his own.

"Oi, you gonna hang around here all day? Someone needs to light a bomb under the two of you," Sparx interrupted, half-annoyed, half-amused.

"R-Right!" Spyro stammered, quickly picking up the pace to catch up with the rest of the dragons. "Let's go!"

"Behind you all the way," Sparx answered, buzzing after his dragon brother and added as an afterthought. "That way I can use you as a shield against danger. Sparx, old boy, why didn't you think of that sooner?"

Cynder only rolled her eyes at his mutterings and hurried after the two of them, leaving the temple deserted once more.

* * *

The trip along the silver river was one filled with old memories for both Spyro and Sparx. It seemed the closer they came to home, the more the homesickness seemed to set in. Cynder swooped low over the water, which appeared molten gold in the early morning sun, before gliding up to Spyro's side.

"This was the river that Ignitus floated your egg down, right?"

"So he said," Spyro replied distantly, his thoughts elsewhere.

"I guess you must be close to the swamp you grew up in, then," was her reply, her emerald eyes scanning the tree line on either side of the river.

Spyro remained silent. Sparx, too, was staying unusually silent, and had been since they began the flight over the river. The other nine dragons were flying behind them, gazing around at the unfamiliar surroundings with interest. Cynder stared at Spyro, concerned about his silence.

"Everything okay?" she asked hesitantly.

Spyro turned his eyes upon her, surprised, "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"You're awfully quiet, that's all," Cynder murmured softly, watching his expression.

His eyes clouded over as though he was thinking deeply of something, and he didn't reply. Still Sparx remained in silence, his arms folded as he stared straight ahead with an oddly serious expression on his face. Cynder sighed.

"You want to see it again, don't you?" she asked, softly. "The swamp, that is. And the family that raised you…you really want to see them again, don't you, Spyro?"

He didn't seem surprised that she had figured out the reason for their silence.

"It's been…so long. I'd just like to see them again, to tell them that I'm happy and alive. And I'm sure Sparx would like it too…" he trailed off for a moment before shaking his head roughly. "But we've got a mission to complete; we don't have time for pleasantries. That can wait."

Cynder felt a rush of annoyance at his words and swished her tail in irritation. After all he had done to save the world, they couldn't give him a break to go see the family that raised him? He deserved better than that.

"No," she replied firmly, "you should go see them. I don't care what mission we have to complete; you deserve at least to go see the family that raised you. And they deserve it too. They deserve to see their son," she paused and looked at Sparx, "_sons_, again."

"But—"

"No buts," she scowled, giving him a swift slap on the flank with the flat of her tailblade. "We can give you at least an hour to go visit the swamp. I'll lead this group off to search the forest until you're ready to move on. And you're not allowed to say no. Go on, go see them. And take Sparx with you, it's creepy without him chattering like he usually does."

"But, Cynder…" Spyro protested, only to have her press her tailblade to his lips in order to silence him.

She smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry; I can handle these dunderheaded dragons. Take your time. We'll continue the search when you're ready. I won't be too far."

Spyro heaved a sigh and finally gave in, turning away with a word of thanks, "Alright, Cynder, don't go too far. I'll be back soon, I promise."

He turned away from her, using his wing to guide Sparx alongside him. Cynder watched him fly towards the trees and called out to him before he disappeared into the foliage.

"Come find us when you're done!"

Spyro's cry of assertion reached her from within the trees as he and the glowing Sparx disappeared into the forest. Turning back to the other nine dragons, none of whom seemed to have noticed the conversation between the purple dragon and the black dragoness, Cynder proceeded to take charge.

"Alright then, dragons," she called, hovering before them, "I'm in charge for now. Spyro has gone to search the swamp on his own, and until he gets back we're going to continue along the river. Search the trees along the river for any sign of life, be it claw marks or scents. Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Surprisingly, not one of them questioned Cynder why Spyro had gone off on his own. For that she was grateful. At least she could give Spyro the time he needed to visit his family again.

* * *

How familiar this scent was, of moist earth and musky fungi. The fresh scent of vegetation, the cool and almost invisible mist that settled around him, and the soft moist ground that made him feel as though he were walking on rain clouds. How familiar it all was.

Spyro inhaled deeply, letting the almost-forgotten memories wash over him, filling his lungs with the scent of a place once called home. Sparx hovered close to his horns, fidgeting nervously as he gazed around at their swampy surroundings. The purple dragon was no better off, the strange feeling of dragonflies in his stomach making him feel queasy. But if one were to ask the two why they felt such nervousness, neither would be able to answer.

"Spyro," Sparx muttered, his voice shaking noticeably, "you've got the shakes."

"Speak for yourself," Spyro replied, the irritated edge lost amongst the quivers in his voice. "You're vibrating like a glow-bug."

"Glow-bugs vibrate?"

Ignoring Sparx's feeble attempt at a joke, Spyro brushed his way through a large clump of bulrushes, squinting his eyes as the straggly plants whipped at his face. His paws squelched noisily in the soggy earth as he came to a stop and gazed at the all-too-familiar surroundings. It was as though nothing had changed.

The large tree in the centre of the clearing, where he and Sparx had so often played together, still stood in all its gnarled glory. The large mushrooms dotted here and there amongst the bulrushes were just the same, but Spyro wondered if perhaps they'd gotten smaller over the years. Sparx hesitated for an instant before hovering, ever so slowly, towards the old gnarled tree. His tiny hands caressed the knobbly bark of the trunk and he turned to Spyro with a strange look on his face.

"We're…we're back…" Spyro couldn't tell if Sparx wanted to laugh or cry, but his voice quivered strangely.

The purple dragon stepped his way delicately over to the tree, gazing up at the old stubbly branches that seemed to have given up reaching for the sun. How odd it felt to be standing here, gazing up at this same tree just as he had done all those years ago. It had looked bigger back then. This was where he had grown up, and the home he had left behind.

"Spyro…? Is that…you?"

A soft voice from behind caused the purple dragon to spin around, alarmed. But the sight that met his eyes was not an unpleasant one. Hovering towards them, their eyes full of hope and disbelief were two dragonflies, one green, and one blue. Sparx's eyes widened, and he stared at them as though afraid they would disappear the instant he looked away.

"Mom…Dad…?"

"Oh, _Sparx_," the green dragonfly whispered, her eyes brimming with tears, "you've come back."

Seconds later Sparx found himself caught in a tight embrace, one that only a mother could give. She sobbed loudly into his shoulder, while the blue dragonfly, Flash, looked on. Sparx hesitantly wove him arms around his sobbing mother, noticing suddenly that she seemed so frail in his embrace. Flash hovered over to Spyro, placing a hand on the purple dragon's muzzle.

"Welcome back, son," he murmured, "It's been a while."

"I know, I'm sorry I never came to see you," Spyro hesitated for a moment before adding, "…Dad."

Their mother, Nina, finally pulled herself together and pried her face away from Sparx's shoulder, wiping her eyes. Sparx let her go almost reluctantly as she turned to face Spyro with watery eyes.

"It doesn't matter how long we've had to wait," she smiled at her two sons, "just that you have returned to us is more than we could have ever asked."

"Aww, mum…" Sparx rubbed the back of his head bashfully, feeling both pleased and embarrassed.

"I'm glad that you escaped the worst of the war," Spyro said suddenly, breaking the warm silence that had fallen upon them. "I would hate to think that something had happened to you while we were away. I'm glad you're safe, Mum, Dad."

"There was no need to worry. However far the war stretched, our little swamp remained untouched," Flash replied. "We dragonflies are, after all, insignificant to the mighty world of dragons."

"Not to my world," Spyro countered strongly, "and if Malefor had ever known the connection between us, you may not have escaped so easily. So I am thankful that you remained safe, even if it may have seemed that there was no threat to your safety. You really were lucky to escape his attention, and that's only something I've realised now. I guess I should count my blessings that I can come here to see that you're still here waiting for me."

Flash and Nina looked upon him with stunned eyes for a moment before the latter gave a warm smile and gently stroked his muzzle.

"You've become very wise, my son," she murmured. "But, come, we shall find somewhere where we can sit and talk. There must be lots you wish to tell, for indeed there are many things I wish to hear."

Spyro agreed with a silent nod and together the mismatched family retreated to a quiet place to speak of times gone by, of memories built, of fears faced and battles won. There was indeed much that needed to be told.

* * *

Cynder hovered patiently above the river, letting her eyes roam over the trees, searching every shadow for any miniscule sign. But so far their search had been fruitless. Even those dragons who had searched deeper into the trees had returned with nothing. This forest seemed utterly empty of dragon life.

For the hundredth time Cynder craned her neck around to look for Spyro. But there remained no sign of the purple dragon. Sighing, Cynder continued to wait. The trees rustled beside her and the black dragoness twisted eagerly around, thinking that finally Spyro had returned. However, it was only two of the older dragons who had gone off to search the trees. Striving to keep the disappointment from her eyes, Cynder hovered towards them.

"Did you find anything?"

They shook their heads, apologetic, "Nothing. Not even a scratch on a tree or a paw print in the mud. There's no sign of any dragons around here."

Cynder heaved a disappointed sigh and shook her head, "Keep searching. We'll travel along the river. Perhaps there may be something further up."

She turned, beckoning to the dragons behind her, and moved on up the river. She flew slowly, looking this way and that to ensure she didn't miss anything important. Although she would have preferred to wait for Spyro, Cynder knew he could catch up. It was her job for the moment to continue the search until the purple dragon returned.

Looking ahead, Cynder noticed that the river curved in and out through the trees, never keeping a straight line. There was no telling what could be waiting beyond each bend. The minutes edged slowly by, until Cynder was sure time had frozen in place. She picked up the pace; beating her wings faster and dipping lower towards the water. This river seemed to be going nowhere, but what awaited her around the next bend made her stop dead in her tracks so quickly that the dragons behind almost collided with her.

Curiously, the dragons peered around her at what had made the black dragoness halt. Ahead of them was a solid rock wall that rose far above the trees. The river continued merrily on its way through a dark tunnel that cut its way deep into the rock to where the eye could not follow. Cynder stared at the foreboding tunnel, her green eyes searching its dark depths for any speck of light. Who knew where the tunnel could lead, or what may await them on the other side.

"What should we do?" asked one of the dragons behind her. "Go in?"

Cynder hesitated, keeping her eyes on the tunnel. The dragons looked at each other, some eager and some hesitant, unsure whether to brave the darkness of the tunnel or not.

"We'll wait for Spyro," Cynder announced, after a moment of hard thinking. "Otherwise he may not know where we have gone."

"And when he returns?"

She stared hard into the darkness of the tunnel, watching as the river disappeared into it, "We go in."

The dragons exchanged nervous looks, but remained silent. Cynder hovered delicately down to rest on the bank, keeping a stern watch on the tunnel as though afraid something would come rushing out of it. The other dragons followed her example and in silence they waited for the purple dragon to return. However, they didn't need to wait for long.

After a hurried goodbye to his surrogate parents, Spyro had left the swamp with Sparx at his side at the same moment Cynder had been brought to a halt in front the cave further up the river. At first her absence had confused him, but the purple dragon quickly surmised she had travelled further up the river and hurried after her. The twists and turns of the river made him anxious, wondering if Cynder had left the river at some point and was now within the forest. He was sure, though, that she wouldn't have left without telling him. Wherever this river led, he was sure she would be waiting at the end of it.

And sure enough, upon swerving around the next bend, she and the rest of the search party came into view.

Cynder looked up when she heard someone calling her name, and saw the welcome sight of Spyro and Sparx gliding towards her. She stood up from her position on the bank as he came to a reckless halt in front of her, landing half in the river and spraying the both of them with water.

"Cynder!" he gasped, looking relieved. "Thank the ancestors I found you! I thought you'd gotten lost."

She hid her blush remarkably well and turned his words against him playfully, "You're the only one thick-headed enough to get lost, Spyro."

He laughed good-naturedly, before shaking the water from his scales and getting her wet in the process. Sparx wrinkled his nose in disgust and edged away from them. It was only then, surprisingly, that Sparx noticed the gaping black tunnel that lead deep into darkness.

"Whoa! Who put that there?"

Every eye turned on the yellow dragonfly and Spyro stepped carefully along the bank to stare in awe at the gaping hole in the wall, into which the river was disappearing.

"I've never seen this before…" the purple dragon muttered to himself.

Cynder gave him a confused look, "You lived here how long, and you've never even seen this before?"

Sparx looked at her with irritation, gesturing violently back downstream, "Yeah? In the swamp, you mean? Way down that way?"

"Sparx is right," Spyro shook his head, not taking his entranced eyes off the tunnel. "Mum and dad never let us leave the swamp. We've never been this far upstream."

"So I guess you don't know where this leads?" Cynder sounded almost disappointed.

Spyro stared into the darkness for a moment longer before spinning around to face Cynder and the search party with a reckless glint in his eyes.

"Wanna find out?"

The older dragons exchanged nervous looks but said nothing. Cynder hesitated for a moment, until a devilish grin spread across her muzzle.

"I don't see why not!" she turned to the dragons behind her. "Is everyone up for it?"

There was a hesitation among most of them, however the decision was unanimous. Spyro grinned in satisfaction as each dragon agreed, bobbing their heads with slightly nervous expressions.

"Alright then!" Spyro announced, testing the water with a paw to see how deep it was. "We'll go on foot. The water isn't that deep. Stay close and move quickly. Let's go!"

Cynder quickly fell into step beside Spyro as he moved into the darkness of the tunnel; the other dragons following close behind. Sparx hesitated for a moment at the mouth of the tunnel, watching the purple dragon disappear into the darkness. There was no telling what they were possibly walking into. Sparx heaved a sigh, massaging his temples, and muttered to himself.

"Oh, brother."

Nevertheless, afraid to be left behind, Sparx steeled his nerves and flew into the darkness of the unknown to light the way for the dragons. No darkness, however deep it may be, was going to separate him from Spyro.

They walked onwards, following Sparx's glowing light and trudging through knee-deep water further and further into the tunnel. As the light behind them slowly faded, the temperature within the tunnel began to drop. The rock walls dripped with moisture, droplets glinting momentarily as Sparx passed by. Cold silence was broken only by the rushing hiss of the river against the rocks.

As he moved closer to Sparx, Spyro noticed his breath was rising in plumes of fog, reflecting the cold atmosphere within the tunnel. Cynder edged closer to him, shivering in the darkness and yearning for the warmth of light. But only Sparx's pale glowing shone through the darkness.

"Spyro?" Cynder whispered, her voice echoing eerily throughout the tunnel. "Suppose this tunnel…doesn't lead anywhere?"

"Don't worry," Spyro answered softly, shifting closer to lend her his warmth, "this water has to flow somewhere. Just keep going. Trust me."

Cynder nodded hesitantly, her spirits as damp as the rock walls around her. Step by step they waded through the river, hoping to see a light cut its way through the darkness. They walked for what seemed like hours, though it was only minutes, until Spyro began to hear something. He paused in the darkness, causing the dragon behind him to bump into him, and listened carefully. Cynder nudged him gently.

"What is it?"

"Shh!" he hissed swiftly, silencing everyone until only the soft flowing of water could be heard.

Cynder listened carefully, closing her eyes and concentrating, until a new sound reached her from afar. It was the rushing of water, not the soft flow of the river, but the deep bellowing sound of falling torrents.

"You hear that?" Spyro asked, breaking the silence.

Cynder nodded, a gesture barely visible in the light cast by Sparx, "It sounds like…a waterfall?"

"Right. Come on, it sounds close."

Their entourage continued along the river, listening for the sound of falling water, with rising hopes. Moments later, as the rushing of the waterfall became louder, a glimmer of light broke through the darkness. Spyro stopped dead, staring at the glow of light that seemed to be waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

"Light!" he yelled. "We made it! Come on!"

Sparx at his side, Spyro sprang towards the glow, leaping through the water in great bounds. Cynder hurried after him, conscious of the other nine dragons hard on her tail.

"Spyro! Wait up!"

It would have been wiser to approach with caution, however the dragons felt only the need to escape this prison of darkness. Laughing, Spyro cantered into the light and suddenly skidded to a halt barely inches from the edge. The ground seemed to end, as though it had been sheered off by a massive claw, and the water fell in torrents down the rock to disappear into white spray. Spyro shielded his eyes from the light as Cynder skidded to a halt beside him.

When their eyes had adjusted to the brilliant glare of light, the two of them gazed out at their surroundings. They were standing at the very top of a tall waterfall that fell towards the sparkling lake below them. Skirting the lake below them were trees and shrubs, with emerald leaves that seemed to shine in the sunlight. From their position above, the forest below them seemed like a secret paradise forgotten by the rest of the world.

Sparx let out a low whistle, "Where are we?"

"You know, Sparx," Spyro answered softly, "I have no idea."

**A/N: I'm not sure if the Silver River is the same one that Ignitus floated Spyro's egg down, or if it is the same one that connects to the poisonous forest that Spyro visited in The Eternal Night, but for the sake of this story it is. And I totally forgot that Malefor destroyed the Dragon Temple in Dawn of the Dragon...but let's just ignore that fact, shall we. ^.^ Thank you for the reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	4. Flame

**4. Flame**

They remained in silence for a few awed moments, taking in the sights and the sounds of what was spread out before them. The waterfall echoed loudly in their ears, like the roar of a thousand dragons. Cynder leant carefully over the edge, watching as the falling water hit the lake and sprang back into gushes of white spray.

"Plan of action, Spyro?" she asked, turning to him as though he held all the answers.

The purple dragon looked back over his shoulder at the curious glances of the older dragons, who were pushing to gain a better look at the scene beyond the waterfall. Spyro turned his eyes back to Cynder.

"I guess we go down."

"You sure about that?" Sparx asked, sceptical. "We don't even know what's down there! There could be all sorts of beasts and creatures! Think about it! Insects the size of trees, Frogweed the size of dragons, Grublins the size of-!"

"Alright, alright, Sparx!" Spyro hushed him quickly before his voice could get any louder. "We get the picture."

"That's highly unlikely though," Cynder muttered, more to herself than to Sparx, "you'd be better off without a sense of imagination."

"It's true we don't know what's down there," Spyro agreed, peering hesitantly over the waterfall, "but the only way we're going to find out is if we explore the place. Our job is to find any dragons that may be in hiding and, if you ask me, this is the perfect place for anyone to hide! We can't just overlook this place!"

Cynder nodded slowly, "You're right, Spyro."

The two of them hesitated for a moment, exchanging hesitant glances and peering nervously down the waterfall. Sparx watched them impatiently.

"Well," Cynder gave a nervous laugh, "after you."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that."

Spyro turned to give her one last hopeless look before steeling his nerves and taking a mighty leap off the edge and into the sky. The spray of the waterfall sprang up to drench his underbelly as he spread his golden wings wide to catch the air. The currents of wind swirled around his body, catching him, holding him aloft and with a reckless grin he rolled into a dive straight down the waterfall. The wind and water rushed into his face, icy cold, as he rode the dive straight down towards the lake below. His wings were snapped tight to his body and only the roar of water and the rush of wind reached his ears.

Above, Cynder gave a shocked gasp as Spyro dove recklessly downwards. She craned her neck out over the edge to watch as the purple dragon rocketed with the water towards the lake. Sparx hovered nervously between her horns, watching his adoptive brother anxiously, as the dragons behind them pushed forwards to get a better view.

Cynder desperately wanted to scream at the purple dragon, to tell him to open his wings and fly, fly before his body smashed into the icy spray below him. When Spyro was only inches from the surface of the lake, and almost obscured from vision by the white spray of the waterfall, Cynder snapped her eyes shut, unable to watch.

Spyro watched the looming mist of spray beneath him draw closer and closer with each second. The sting of the water and wind in his eyes was becoming almost unbearable and the tug of the water behind him seemed to want to drag him down with it into white oblivion. Seconds before he came into contact with the surface of the lake Spyro spread his wings wide, straining to do so against the unexpected force of the falling water.

With a mighty roar of defiance, Spyro pulled out of his dive and snapped his wings open to their full extent. Triumphantly, he sped across the surface of the lake, raking the water with his claws and turning a graceful half-circle to a halt in the centre of the lake, hovering barely an inch above the water. Grinning, he turned his eyes upwards to where Cynder was watching from the head of the waterfall.

The black dragoness emitted a soft sigh of relief when she saw Spyro had successfully pulled out of his dive. He was now grinning up at her like a pleased child. There was no doubt about it; the mighty purple dragon was a reckless show-off.

"Well," Cynder grinned up at Sparx, "guess it's our turn."

"What!" Sparx's alarmed yelp went unnoticed by Cynder as she leapt forward and caught him on her horn.

As a reflex, the yellow dragonfly grabbed onto that horn and felt the alarming sensation of being tugged downwards. The roar of the water drowned out his scream.

Cynder laughed as she sped downwards, feeling the freedom of the wind and the water as it guided her down. She was barely conscious of the screaming Sparx clinging to her horn, or of the shocked gasps of the older dragons as they scrambled to peer over the edge. All that mattered at that moment was the freedom of flight.

There was nothing in the world of dragons that could compare to that sensation, of effortless free falling, when the body felt weightless like a feather caught in the wind.

"Cynder!"

She pulled out of the dive sooner than Spyro had when she heard him call her name, straining against the downward pull of the waterfall. When she had regained her balance in the air, Cynder glided across the surface of the lake towards the purple dragon with Sparx still clinging to her horn. She returned his vibrant grin, tossing water droplets off her scales.

"Exhilarating!" she grinned, receiving an agreeable nod from Spyro.

"Terrifying, you mean?" Sparx muttered, prying himself away from Cynder's horn as though the water had stuck him to it like a piece of wet moss.

The three of them turned their eyes upwards to where the rest of their search party was gazing anxiously down at them.

"What do you think they'll do?" Cynder asked, noticing their hesitation.

"We'll see," Spyro replied, watching them.

They jumped one by one into the air, hovering level with the top of the waterfall and not daring to dive down it like Spyro and Cynder had done. Watching them, Cynder was reminded of a swarm of bats leaving their cave for the night. When all nine of them had left the mouth of the tunnel and were hovering in the air, they finally began a much slower and steadier descent to join the two younger dragons on the surface of the lake.

"Everyone here?" Spyro asked, scanning his search party when they had assembled, hovering, in front of him. "Good. Let's get going, then."

The eleven of them, plus Sparx, headed towards the far bank and landed on the lush grass that surrounded the lake. Cynder turned around to gaze out over the lake and to get a better look at the waterfall they had just dove down. It seemed to spring from nowhere, in the centre of a massive rock wall that extended so far up it was lost in the clouds. The rock seemed to curve, like the edge of a giant bowl and was lost behind the trees on both sides. Cynder turned slowly, trying to see over the tops of the trees behind her, but all she could see were clouds. Perhaps that rock wall extended all the way around this place, like a giant natural barrier against the outside world.

"Let's go," Spyro murmured, nudging her, "but be careful. We don't know what's around here. Try not to get separated."

She and the other dragons nodded and began their journey into the lush forest that lay in stillness before them. Sparx led the way beside Spyro, gazing in awe at the trees that stretched their branches to the sky. Shadows fell over the dragons as they moved deeper under the canopy of leaves and left the shimmering lake behind them. Cynder would have liked to stay and explore around that lake, but she understood that if dragons were in hiding they would likely be much deeper in the forest.

The peaceful noises of nature filled the air as they stepped carefully through the grass that crunched freshly underpaw. Spyro halted suddenly, raising his head to gaze at the trees on either side of him, looking oddly suspicious. Cynder nudged him.

"What is it?"

He remained in silence for a moment and continued to observe his surroundings with a frown on his face. Sparx turned to Cynder and shrugged, obviously at a loss.

"Nothing," the purple dragon finally said and continued on, although Cynder noticed that the muscles along his back and shoulders were tensed.

Spyro continued to walk, deeper and deeper into the forest, listening to the sound of his search party following on behind. His violet eyes kept a look out for anything unusual within the peaceful trees. Silence reigned. Spyro stopped. There it was again, that flash of red amongst the trees beside him and the sound of rustling leaves, so silent he could have imagined it. The purple dragon glared into the bushes, looking for that flash of red that he was sure he had seen. But only the green of leaves met his gaze. Shaking his head, Spyro continued on. So on edge he was that even the sound of a bird flapping its wings caused him to spin around in the direction of the noise.

"Spyro, you're getting jumpy," Cynder called, "is there something wrong?"

He glared around at the trees again before answering, "No…nothing."

He took another step, looked to the right and saw it again. There it was, something red within the trees, and shining like…like scales! Spyro was sure of it. Dropping back so that he was beside Cynder, the purple dragon hissed softly in her ear.

"Listen, Cynder, don't look, but there's something following us. It's been hiding in the bushes beside us," Spyro waved an inconspicuous paw towards the bushes to his right. "I'm not sure what it is, but it's red. Keep a lookout, but pretend you don't know it's there. Got it?"

Cynder nodded, "Got it."

On they continued, keeping their heads low and shooting glances out of the corners of their eyes. Twice Spyro was convinced he saw that red creature again, but it moved too fast for him to get a good look. He was sure that that it was at least as big as he was. None of the other nine dragons in his search party seemed aware of anything. Cynder looked around, noticing the bushes beside her were rustling, but they stopped as soon as she looked at them. Her eyes narrowed.

"Spyro…" she hissed as softly as she could.

"I know," he murmured back, his shoulders tensing, casting a very swift glance to his right.

The bushes rustled for a split second and stopped again, so quickly that had he blinked Spyro would have missed it. The birds had stopped singing, as though they too had noticed something was out of the ordinary. Sparx hovered anxiously beside Spyro's horn.

"Spyro, buddy," the dragonfly's voice trembled, "I told you this wasn't a good idea…"

"Hush, Sparx," Spyro kept his voice low so that only Sparx and Cynder could hear. "It'll be all right. It's just some sort of creature that thinks it can follow us."

"Creature, monster, evil dragon of doom who wants us dead," Sparx trembled, "what difference is there? Let's get out of here!"

"Hush!" shushed Cynder firmly, silencing the dragonfly's voice, which had been growing in volume.

A growl, soft and deep, echoed from within the bushes beside them. Spyro glared, hunching his shoulders and lowering his head, unfurling his wings defensively. Cynder glanced nervously at the bushes as they trembled again and Sparx shot behind her horns, peering nervously around them. Spyro bared his teeth as the bushes growled again. The other nine dragons had stopped and were gazing at their surroundings curiously, completely oblivious.

The purple dragon took a slow step towards the bushes, shielding Cynder behind him. In an instant the bushes erupted, startling Cynder and Sparx. Leaves went flying as a red blur leapt from the cover of the bushes and barrelled into Spyro, who was ready to match it with teeth and claw. In a flurry of scales and wings, the two beasts rolled over each other and leapt apart. Spyro snarled, ducking low to the ground and spreading his wings as he considered his opponent. Cynder, standing on the sidelines, gave a strangled gasp when she saw what Spyro was facing.

The beast that had leapt out to attack Spyro was indeed red, proving he was the creature that Spyro had seen following them. With scales as red as freshly spilt blood and wings the colour of a golden sunset, there was no mistaking this creature. He was a dragon, no larger than Spyro, and a male at that.

"Who are you!" Spyro snarled, slightly alarmed by the sudden appearance of this red dragon.

But the dragon only snarled in return, baring pearly white teeth, and his golden eyes narrowed dangerously. He leapt for Spyro with mouth open and claws bared, uttering a growl that seemed to make the trees tremble. Spyro met the attack with his own claws and rolled away, tossing the dragon off him. Again the red dragon dove for Spyro's neck, his tail lashing the air dangerously and tipped with a blade shaped like an arrowhead. Spyro roared and rolled out of the way, smashing his tail into the side of the other dragon's head. The red dragon rolled painfully onto his side but leapt back up seconds later and commenced another attack on Spyro.

"Looks like this guy's going for a 'kill first, ask questions later' tactic," Sparx muttered dryly, trembling behind Cynder's horn.

The black dragoness watched them anxiously, her green eyes moving from one to the other so frantically she was almost making herself dizzy. The other nine dragons stood behind her, gaping dumbly at the fight before them.

"We need to stop them!" Cynder cried, running forwards towards the brawling dragons.

"Hey! Stop this!" she screeched, but neither listened to her as they met again in a flurry of teeth and claws.

Spyro roared as the red dragon caught him a nasty gash across his thigh, but retaliated by sinking his teeth into the back of his adversary's neck. The red dragon roared angrily, pained, as he attempted to shake Spyro off. But the purple dragon hung on grimly, grimacing as the metallic taste of blood reached his tongue.

Suddenly, a sharp pain in his back caused him to release the red dragon and stumble away. The red dragon wrenched away from the purple dragon, swishing his tail, which had been used to stab Spyro in the back. Spyro snarled and dug his claws into the earth, his eyes filling with the echo of fire. A growl grew deep within his throat and seconds later he opened his mouth to send forth a gushing torrent of scorching flame.

He heard Cynder give a strangled gasp and watched, with a considerable amount of surprise, as the red dragon countered with his own scorching flames. The two forces met head on, sending out sparks which threatened to set the grass alight. Cynder stepped back in alarm as the heat intensified, the two dragons pushing with all their might to overcome the other.

Unable to hold it any longer, both dragons tore away from each other at the same time and ceased their fiery attack. Spyro glared at his opponent, his chest heaving with exertion. The red dragon glared right back, taking great gulps of air from between clenched teeth.

"I said," Spyro growled, his voice hoarse, "who are you?"

The red dragon curled his lip, revealing his fang right up to its root.

"I should be asking you that!" he snarled, leaping at Spyro once more and sending clumps of dirt and grass flying.

Spyro stood his ground, lowering himself to the ground and tensing his legs, digging his feet into the earth. Seconds before the red dragon landed on top of him, Spyro propelled himself upwards and forward as the same time, catching his adversary in the chest with a full-forced head-butt. He grit his teeth as his skull came into contact with the bony chest of the red dragon, rattling his brains. The red dragon was thrown backwards and landed sprawled on the ground a few metres away. Spyro landed on all fours again, panting and glaring at his opponent as though daring him to get up.

The red dragon gave several pained gasps and raised his head, wincing as his chest ached painfully. He gave Spyro the filthiest look he could muster, attempting with no luck to stand up.

"Curse you…" he snarled, collapsing again as he tried to push himself to his feet.

Spyro glowered at him for a moment before edging slowly forwards, keeping on his guard. The red dragon bared his teeth, his golden eyes flashing.

"Tell me your name," Spyro ordered, stopping barely a stride away from the fallen dragon.

The red dragon snarled again, "Why don't you tell me yours first?"

"Spyro," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "My name is Spyro. So, what's your name, dragon?"

The red dragon let his eyes roam over Spyro and his search party, glaring at the less-than-intelligent looks he was getting from the nine older dragons. He glared at the black dragoness who was watching him warily from the sidelines, and noticed with some confusion the yellow dragonfly that was hovering beside her. His golden eyes returned to Spyro and a subtle smirk spread across his snout.

"Interesting bunch you've gathered, Spyro," he smirked. "Those dragons over there don't look smart enough to know their heads from their tails."

"I asked you what your name is," Spyro growled firmly, ignoring the comment.

A growl echoed deep within the dragon's chest and he suddenly sprang upright, whipping his tail around to catch Spyro off guard. Alarmed, Spyro leapt back and winced as the dragon's tail blade glanced painfully across his forepaws. The red dragon scrambled to his feet, wincing as his chest twinged painfully again.

"My name," the red dragon snarled, spreading his golden wings, "is Flame! And you, purple wimp, you are getting on my last nerve!"

He slashed angrily at Spyro, causing the purple dragon to dance backwards to avoid his tail and claws. Painfully the red dragon's claws glanced across the scales of his chest and legs again and again. Spyro stumbled back as his opponent's tailblade struck him painfully across the cheek. Again and again Flame struck, with such speed and ferocity that Spyro didn't have a chance to strike back.

"Get – out – of – my – FOREST!" Flame roared between blows, and on the last syllable he let loose a burning shot of fire aimed at Spyro's face.

But Spyro wasn't about to go down that easily. The moment he saw the fireball fly from Flame's mouth, Spyro's throat began to fill with cold air. Seconds before the fiery missile struck, Spyro opened his mouth to release a breath of cold ice from his maw. The tiny ice particles in Spyro's breath immediately extinguished the fire and struck Flame in the face, peppering his snout and eyes.

"What?" the red dragon yelped, stumbling backwards and pawing furiously at his freezing eyes.

"You wont take me down so easily," Spyro growled warningly, baring his teeth to the red dragon.

"Prove it!" Flame roared, dashing the last of ice from his eyes and leaping to claw at Spyro once more.

But Spyro was ready this time, his whole body beginning to vibrate with electricity. The shocking energy ripped from his mouth to strike Flame in the chest and the red dragon gave a strangled roar of pain as the electricity ripped through his veins. He crumpled to the ground, wincing, but managed to raise his head. Fire burned in the back of his throat.

"You—!" he roared, only to have the wind knocked out of him as Spyro slammed his paw into the ground.

A great pillar of rock shot up from beneath Flame and struck him painfully in the stomach, sending him tumbling backwards head over heels. Gasping for breath, Flame struggled to sit up. Spyro stepped forwards slowly, eyes burning with fire. The red dragon glared, wincing from his injuries.

"Just…what sort of dragon are you?" Flame snarled, completely out of breath.

Spyro moved to stand over the prostrate red dragon, glaring down at him, "One that is more than a match for you, Flame."

Flame trembled with rage, bowing his head, realising his defeat at the hands of this purple dragon. But he wasn't quite done yet. Trembling with anger, Flame raised his head to the sky and let loose a roar so load it could have made the earth shake. Spyro stumbled back in shock and Cynder's eyes widened as she stared at the roaring red dragon. The nine older dragons exchanged nervous glances and edged closer together.

As Flame's roar died away, Spyro felt his scales stand on end as in the distance another deep roar answered. And another, and another. It was literally a chorus of roars, echoing all around them, filling the air and shaking their bones. Spyro and Cynder exchanged an alarmed look and Sparx hid fearfully behind the dragoness's horns. Flame grinned up at Spyro, despite his bruised and battered appearance.

"You'll be sorry you ever set foot in our forest, Spyro."

One look at the triumphant expression on Flame's face and Spyro knew they were in trouble. The ground was beginning to shake, as though a herd of elephants was leading a stampede towards them. Cynder hurried to Spyro's side, Sparx clinging to her horn.

"Spyro! What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Spyro replied, turning around in an attempt to gauge where the noise of stampeding feet was coming from. "It sounds like he's called reinforcements!"

"Observant of you, purple freak," Flame snarled, a smirk to his voice. "If I were you, I'd get running right away."

The older nine dragons began to mill about in a panic and Cynder turned desperately to Spyro.

"What do we do?" she cried, alarmed.

"Stand your ground!" Spyro roared, both to her and to the other panicking dragons.

"Hmph," Flame muttered behind them, "suit yourself."

The stampede became louder and Spyro tensed his muscles, ready to fight or flee depending on the outcome. He could feel Cynder trembling beside him and knew he'd do anything to protect her. He hadn't expected the first dragons he came across to be hostile. The older dragons were still panicking, turning this way and that as though unsure of which way to run.

"Steady!" Spyro growled, hunching his shoulders.

Moments later the trees in front of them seemed to explode as three large beasts came crashing their way onto the scene. Spyro saw instantly they were dragons, much larger than he and Cynder and about as bulky as Terrador. The one in the centre looked about as old as the guardians, the two standing on either side perhaps a bit younger. They halted so quickly they tore chunks of earth from the ground. Spyro flared his wings open instantly, alarmed at facing such large opponents. The oldest dragon, who was the colour of a faded sunset, glared down at the purple dragon.

"Who are you?" he growled at Spyro, brown eyes narrowing. "What is your business here?"

Spyro opened his mouth to answer, but Flame beat him to it, "Thasos! They attacked me!"

The older dragon, who Flame had called Thasos, turned his brown eyes on the younger red dragon, "Flame! What on earth?"

Angrily, Thasos turned his eyes on Spyro, "What is the meaning of this, attacking one of our younglings?"

"He sprung a surprise attack on us," Spyro glared. "I was merely defending myself and my party!"

Thasos stared hard at the defensive purple dragon before turning that firm stare on the fallen red dragon behind him, "Flame, is this true?"

Flame glared, smoke rising indignantly from his nostrils, "You'd believe a stranger's word over mine?"

"Had he said the same about any other dragon, I would not have even considered his words," Thasos replied, his deep voice booming dauntingly. "However, you, Flame, are lacking a good shred of common sense! There have been too many instances in the past regarding your unprecedented knack of getting into fights, and that I simply cannot overlook! It is well within your nature, Flame, for you to spring an unwarranted attack on an innocent traveller! Do you deny such actions?"

Flame only growled in response and turned his gaze to the ground. Thasos glowered at him, "You need to cool off that head of yours, young dragon."

The two dragons behind Thasos nodded sagely, but said nothing. Flame only glared. Ignoring the red dragon on the ground, Thasos turned his eyes back to Spyro.

"Tell me, young dragon, what brings you and your group here of all places?" he asked, his voice softening, but still looking somewhat suspicious. "I dare say this place hasn't seen strangers like you for many years. Are you refugees from the war, perhaps? It's a terrible thing, that which has destroyed our way of life."

"Actually," Spyro answered, "we come from the dragon city of Warfang on the mainland. We've been sent to find dragon populations, like yours, and bring them this news."

"News?" Thasos looked curious and somewhat dubious.

"The war is over," Spyro stated, suppressing a triumphant grin, "the Dark Master is dead. We're free again."

Thasos and the other two dragons looked as though they'd been turned to stone. The older dragon shook himself out of his trance with a shake of his head.

"Surely you jest, young dragon?" he asked, shell-shocked. "And do not think that I have not noticed your colour! I had thought the only purple dragon alive was the one they called the Dark Master, Malefor! So who might you be?"

Flame struggled to sit upright behind them, "That's right! How do we know you're not spies working for the Dark Master? I've heard stories about him since I was a child! He was a purple dragon, just like you, who turned evil and almost decimated the entire dragon race! So who _are_ you?"

Spyro turned to Cynder and shrugged before turning back to Thasos. The faded orange dragon glared suspiciously down at him.

"I am Spyro," the purple dragon said, staring up at the older dragon, "one of the dragons who hatched from one of only two eggs that survived the raid on the Dragon Temple fifteen years ago."

"Oh?" Thasos raised an eyebrow.

"I am the purple dragon born ten generations after Malefor," Spyro continued, "as the prophecy stated. And I am the one responsible for the death of Malefor."

There was a shocked silence in which Thasos and the two dragons behind him stared in unbelieving awe at the purple dragon. Behind them, Flame was staring at the back of Spyro's head with shock and disbelief written all over his face.

"This…this is…" Thasos shook his large head. "I have heard stories about the prophecy, but I never believed it would come to pass. On that day, when the Dragon Temple was attacked, I believed our last hope had been crushed under the claws of apes. And you stand here before me to say _you_ are the dragon the prophecy spoke of? That is…beyond comprehension."

"Do you believe me?" Spyro asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Thasos exchanged a look with the two dragons behind him, but they merely shrugged. The older dragon sighed and closed his eyes.

"Tell me one thing, Spyro, if that is your name," Thasos murmured. "If you say you were one of two eggs that survived the raid, who is the other?"

"The dragoness who stands beside me," Spyro replied, gesturing to Cynder with a jolt of his head, "is the other. Her egg, though, was the unlucky one. She was taken by the Dark Master's forces, twisted and corrupted into a beast of incomprehensible terror. She has struggled with that darkness for as long as I have known her, and that has led me to believe she is so much stronger than I. The dragoness who stands beside me is Cynder, the former Terror of the Skies, who stood beside me to see the demise of Malefor and followed me even to the end of the earth. She is the most trusted comrade I have."

Thasos gave a strangled gasp of realisation, "Cynder! Yes, I have heard stories about her from the dragonflies. They cross backwards and forwards between here and the swamp occasionally. I had heard tales of the great black dragon, the Dark Master's puppet. You tell me that this young lady who stands beside you is the very same dragon that helped turn the war in Malefor's favour?"

Cynder bowed her head against the painful memories and Spyro extended a protective wing over her. He glared up at Thasos, a determined look in his eyes.

"That was what she was," Spyro defended, "what the Dark Master forced her to be. This is what she is now. And I ask you to acknowledge that."

Thasos stared hard at the black dragoness, who dared hesitantly to look up and meet his eyes with her own emerald gaze. They remained in silence and for a moment it seemed as though a silent conversation had passed between the two. Finally Thasos closed his eyes and nodded.

"I understand, young dragons. And I see I have no choice but to believe you," he gave a grizzled smile, "no matter how impossible your story may seem. You say the war is over? Then come, I must invite you to our settlement so you can see for yourself the dragon population that rode out the war here, where we could not be found."

Spyro heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Thasos, for your trust. Please, forgive me for attacking Flame."

"Of course, of course, young dragon. Flame's head is far too hot for his own good. You only did what was necessary to protect yourself," Thasos peered around them to face the red dragon. "Come now, Flame, pull yourself up. We have guests to show around."

Flame didn't seem too pleased by that and glared daggers at Spyro and Cynder, "Thasos, you're really going to believe them?"

"I am," Thasos replied, glowering down at the younger dragon, "and you should too, young dragon. Now, up you get."

The two other dragons seemed to be waiting for orders from Thasos and stood patiently waiting as Thasos argued with Flame. Moments later, the older dragon turned to them.

"Ah, Sestos, Milos," he said, addressing the blue and green dragons, "guide our guests back to the settlement would you? I'll give young Flame here a hand."

The two dragons nodded regally as Flame snapped angrily about not needing a hand. Spyro and Cynder gave Thasos another grateful smile and followed Sestos and Milos into the forest, with the other dragons of their search party trailing behind. Thasos followed on behind after finally coaxing Flame up off the ground.

The battered and bruised red dragon followed Thasos grudgingly, glaring at the ground and thinking angry thoughts towards the purple dragon that had beaten him up. As far as he was concerned, it was far from over between them.

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoyed it. ^.^ I always imagine Flame to be similar to Knuckles the Echidna: hard-headed and eager to pick a fight. I hope no one minds. And Thasos, Milos and Sestos are all names of Greek islands...that's what happens when you study the Persian Wars in Ancient History class. :) Thank you for the reviews!**


	5. The Hidden Paradise

**5. The Hidden Paradise**

Sestos and Milos led their guests deep into the forest until the trees parted and the settlement came into view. The blue dragon, Sestos, turned his head to Spyro with a kindly smile.

"Come see, young dragons," he prompted, guiding them to the edge of the trees, "this is our home."

Eagerly, Spyro and Cynder hurried forward to catch a glimpse of the dragon settlement nestled away in the forest. Sparx hovered after them, giving the two larger dragons on either side of him nervous smiles. Milos winked at the dragonfly, while Sestos beckoned him forward with one wide, blue wing. The dragonfly gazed out over the clearing, slightly surprised at the appearance of the settlement.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Spyro grinned, eyes drinking in the sight.

Cynder nodded slowly. Her first thought upon looking at it was that it reminded her of the cheetah village back in the Valley of Avalar. And it was somewhat smaller than she had expected. Wooden huts were set at random throughout the clearing, some with trees forming parts of their walls and others that were not fully enclosed, as though someone had neglected to build a fourth wall. The craftwork of the huts was rough and almost shabby, but they had a strangely homely feel to them. Sitting around their huts, or under half-built shelters, were several groups of dragons. Spyro noticed they seemed to be older than both he and Cynder.

"It's not very large," Milos admitted, "however, our population is a very small one and we have no need for a large, extravagant city."

"Are there many younger dragons?" Spyro asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like Flame?"

Sestos shook his head slowly, "I am afraid not. Young dragons are meant to be the future of our race, but there are very few within our society. Thasos will explain everything to you. For now, come, I will introduce you to the rest of our citizens."

Spyro and his search party took the invitation eagerly and followed Sestos down a short slope into the clearing. Milos hung back, waiting for Thasos and the grumbling Flame to catch up. Dragons lounging around their huts raised their heads curiously as Spyro and his group approached behind Sestos. Cynder stuck close to the purple dragon, unnerved by the curious stares from every dragon in view. Sparx tugged anxiously on one of Spyro's horns and leaned close to the purple dragon's head.

"Why are they staring at us?" he mumbled softly, sounding just as unnerved as Cynder looked.

Spyro only shrugged, although he'd already gathered the reason. These dragons had been living here in secret throughout the war. They had grown up together, never seeing any other dragons and believing that the world outside was a cruel and unforgiving place ruled under the iron claw of the Dark Master. Spyro and his party were trespassers from that world, strange beasts who had grown up in the midst of war and somehow lived through it.

And worse, Spyro realised, was the colour of his scales. To the older dragons he was Malefor all over again, a purple dragon of prophecy that should have been the hope of their race, only to destroy it. How could they trust him when Malefor had so blatantly abused that trust?

Their untrusting eyes penetrated his scales, like poison-tipped arrows. But while Cynder hung her head and shied away, Spyro knew he had to stand tall. He raised his head and puffed out his chest, returning their glares with a kindly smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"Spyro…" Cynder murmured, her voice quivering, "They're glaring at us…"

"Do you know why that is?" Spyro asked, his voice soft, reassuring.

Cynder only shook her head, averting her eyes away from the untrusting gazes of the unfamiliar dragons.

"It's because they're afraid of us," Spyro smiled, "that's all. So hold your head up, smile, and show them that there is no need to fear us."

He raised her head gently with his wing, coaxing her to meet the eyes of the dragons. She looked surprised at Spyro's explanation, but accepted it without question. Hesitantly, she cracked a smile and her expression shifted from timorous to gentle. And just like that the glares began to fade away, for smiles could only be met with smiles. Cynder noticed, with rising courage, as the suspicion in their eyes gave way to simple curiosity.

"You see?" Spyro whispered, winking.

"My friends," Sestos called suddenly, "please allow me to introduce to you our guests. They have travelled far from the mainland to bring us news of the war, news that I am sure you will find most satisfying. This young dragon is Spyro, please, welcome he and his friends with warmth."

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," Spyro addressed them, pushing away his nervousness. "Please, if you would gather your friends together, I want everyone to hear this."

The dragons hesitated, exchanging unsure glances. However, it was Thasos who calmed their nerves.

"Listen to what he says, my comrades," the old dragon called, coming up behind Spyro. "We can trust him, believe me."

Instantly, all mistrust seemed to melt away and the dragons gathered together in front of Spyro and his party, appearing out of huts or from within the trees. Spyro waited until they were all gathered before him and noted, impressed, the great deal of respect Thasos must have earned for them to trust him so easily. His lilac eyes raked over the crowd, searching for any younger dragons, but, with some disappointment, noticed there were none. Perhaps Flame was the only dragon of his age in this society.

"Listen closely to me," Spyro began, raising his voice so that all could hear, although there were no more than thirty dragons gathered before him, "The news I bring you concerns the war that has plagued our world since the beginning of memory. I ask you to believe me when I say this…"

He paused, hoping to dramatise his rather short speech, and continued, "The war is over. The world of dragons has been released from Malefor's evil reign. We are free."

Shocked silence reigned for the moment until every eye turned on Thasos. The old orange dragon gave a simple short nod, confirming Spyro's words. Instantly the crowd erupted, as dragons turned to each other with excited grins, stampeding the ground in their approval. Spyro looked relieved, and grinned at Cynder.

"They believed that easily," Sparx muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"It was Thasos," Spyro explained, smiling gratefully at the older dragon, "they trust him. If he hadn't agreed with us, they wouldn't have believed it. Right, Thasos?"

"It would seem that way, young dragon," Thasos agreed, looking amused, "To them I am the unofficial guardian of this place, just as Ignitus was to the Dragon Temple. No doubt you have heard of the fire guardian, Ignitus?"

The mention of his old mentor's name froze Spyro in place and for a moment Cynder was worried he had turned to stone. But the purple dragon tore himself from his stupor remarkably quickly, although the shock seemed to have frozen his blood in his veins. He had not expected Thasos to mention that name so carelessly. The old orange dragon considered Spyro with concern, worried by his reaction. But the purple dragon merely gave him a strained smile.

"I…I knew Ignitus well," he admitted, "Did you…know him?"

Thasos replied with a short booming laugh, "Know him? Why, the two of us were as close as brothers! Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday, the two of us, young and headstrong, vying over the position of Fire Guardian. We were the bitterest of rivals, and the best of friends. We'd spar in every free moment, and even in the middle of lessons, regardless of who was around. I swear we drove our mentors to their graves with our antics. To be chosen as the new apprentice Fire Guardian was the greatest of honours, and we fought bitterly to gain that honour."

He turned his head to wink at Spyro, "He beat me, of course. We were matched scale to scale in physical combat, but when it came to our elements, well I'm sorry to say I didn't quite measure up. He got the position, and underwent the training we had so dreamed of. He always said to me that it was far too difficult, that he wasn't sure if it was worth it. But I knew he wanted nothing more than to become a guardian, and he'd do anything to reach that goal. I continued to envy him, even when he came to me in tears and insisted he couldn't go through with it. But Ignitus, he never gave up. We parted ways after his guardian training was complete and I haven't seen him since. Do you perhaps know whatever happened to him, my old hot-headed friend?"

Spyro, who had been listening entranced to Thasos, suddenly felt his spirits sink. He lowered his eyes to the ground, his wings drooping limply at his sides, and dug his claws into the soft earth. Thasos watched him with a woeful look on his face.

"I gather the news is not good?" he asked softly, his cheerful tone vanished as though a heavy mist had just descended upon them.

"Ignitus didn't survive the war," Spyro murmured, his voice husky. "He gave his life for me and Cynder, and in doing so he saved the world. I'm sorry. You must have…wanted to see him again, huh?"

Thasos nodded slowly, his eyes sad, "Yes, it would have been nice to see my old friend again. But, at least I know he died a hero. That was always how he wanted to go."

The great orange dragon raised his head to the sky and took a deep breath before letting it out in a heavy, cleansing sigh. He turned his earthy eyes on Spyro, a kindly smile on his muzzle, and Spyro understood what he was saying. Let the past stay in the past. It would be best not to dwell on such unhappy thoughts.

"Come, Spyro, walk with me. There is much to discuss," Thasos beckoned to the purple dragon. "And you too, Cynder. Come along. I shall show you our abode."

The three of them, with Sparx trailing behind, passed by Flame, who was settled looking rather disgruntled between Sestos and Milos. He glared at Spyro as he passed, but Thasos addressed him before he could say a word.

"Ah, Flame. It seems we are missing someone," the old dragon cast an eye over the chattering crowd. "Go find her would you? I'm sure she'd like to meet the purple dragon and hear what he has to say. You always seem to know where she is. Off you go, now."

"Why do I have to do it?" Flame grumbled, but stood up anyway and sauntered off into the bushes with a last venomous glare at Spyro.

Spyro gave Thasos a curious glance, "Who's missing?"

"Another of our young ones," Thasos replied, "but no need to worry, I'm sure she's just off daydreaming somewhere. I'll introduce you later."

The three dragons and dragonfly wandered away from the settlement, leaving the rest of Spyro's search party to mingle with the other dragons. Cynder seemed content to watch the scenery, but Spyro had other things on his mind. He had questions, and he wanted answers to them. And Thasos was just the dragon for that.

"How long have your dragons lived in this place, in hiding?" he asked first, stepping carefully through the undergrowth at Thasos's side.

Thasos paused, thinking, "Well, I believe we've been here since the raid on the temple. So that would be fifteen years at most."

"And this place," Spyro continued, "how did you come by it?"

"Accident," Thasos replied, an amused grin on his face, "isn't that how all great things happen?"

Spyro wasn't sure how to answer that, or if he was even supposed to, so he just gave a confused smile and shrugged. Thasos chuckled softly at the expression on the purple dragon's face.

"Don't let my ramblings confuse you," he laughed, "but I kid you not, we did discover this place by accident. A few younger dragons, younger than me that is, discovered it after entering a cave. No doubt you came through that same cave. At that time our group was stationed in the forest to the south of the Dragon Temple. When those dragons returned with news of a hidden paradise, we laughed at them. However, when the temple was raided we found ourselves with nowhere to go. That's when they stood up to the mark, and insisted we follow them. They led us here, to this hidden paradise, to the place they had spoken of, the very concept of which we had laughed at. It is thanks to them that our small society was saved. We rode out the war here, and we have never left."

Spyro nodded slowly, "And no one ever found you here?"

Thasos shook his head, "No, not a soul. It is as though we have been forgotten from existence."

"But how is that possible?" Cynder's voice broke into their conversation, her head craned to the sky. "Surely if one were to fly over this place, you would be spotted?"

"Perhaps," Thasos replied, "that is, if anyone were able to fly that high."

Spyro raised an eyebrow, eying Thasos warily, "What do you mean by that?"

"You saw the walls didn't you?" The old dragon asked, "When you came through the waterfall?"

Spyro and Sparx, who hadn't been taking in their surroundings at all, just exchanged confused looks. But Cynder nodded, her eyes wide and eager.

"Yes," she replied, "I saw them. They extend straight up into the clouds. I couldn't even see the top. Tell me about them!"

Thasos smiled and nodded, "Yes, those walls are what protect us. They extend all the way around this place, a giant barrier to the outside world. And they rise to such high altitudes that even a dragon would have trouble flying over them. Of course, if one really wanted to I'm sure it would be possible, but why bother if there's nothing on the other side? Malefor never knew we were here, so he never tried to infiltrate this place. That is how our natural barrier works."

"A natural barrier," Spyro mumbled, "how is it possible that nature could create such a thing?"

Thasos seemed only too happy to explain, "We wondered that ourselves, young dragon, and have come up with a hypothesis that we believe is not far from the truth. This place you see is like a great bowl, and we are protected at the bottom. Once those walls may have risen even higher and met at a central point…"

"Like a mountain, you mean?" Spyro asked, curious.

"Yes, but, more like a hollow mountain," Thasos replied, a twinkle in his eyes, "Can you think of anything that matches that description?"

Spyro looked confused, but Cynder's eyes widened in realisation.

"A volcano!" she breathed.

Thasos nodded, "Yes, you are right."

"But that's impossible!" Spyro argued, "No volcano would possibly be this big! Even Boyzitbig would be tiny compared to this!"

"Millions of years ago," Thasos murmured, "this was a great volcano that took up half of this island. We know it now as a super volcano, a great entity that could destroy half the world in a single night. Even the strongest of dragons could not measure up to the ferocity and devastation of a super volcano. However, like all entities, volcanoes die. In destroying the world around them, they destroy themselves. This is what happened to this volcano. Its walls remain in tact, at least most of them, but it is now entirely hollowed out. I believe we are now standing in what was once the magma chamber. You understand?"

"That's almost too incredible to believe," Spyro breathed, his eyes wide with awe.

"You're telling me," Sparx mumbled, "How about seeing it from my perspective? It's a lot bigger to me!"

Thasos laughed, "The dragonfly is right! What is large to us is even larger to those smaller than us. Nature truly is a marvellous thing, don't you believe?"

Spyro grinned and nodded his agreement. No matter how great they were, the dragon race was still dwarfed in comparison to the majesty of Mother Earth.

"Tell me about Warfang, Spyro," Thasos insisted. "I was but a hatchling the last I was there. What is it like now?"

The purple dragon smiled absently, and began to speak of the great city on the mainland. Thasos listened with all his attention and slowly the talk turned to Spyro himself. Further they walked into the forest, swapping tales like old friends and reminiscing in the memories of the past.

* * *

The sunlight crept curiously across the grass, reaching its golden fingers towards the pink scales of a female dragon. She yawned and shifted slightly, letting the sun warm her back, as she lay content upon a small grassy knoll. Her blue eyes shifted dreamily to the clouds, her tail swishing backwards and forwards through the grass behind her. There was barely a breeze to disturb her, despite the fact that she was away from the cover of the trees.

"Ember! Hey!"

The tip of her tail twitched at the sound of another dragon's voice, a male, and she turned towards the trees. Slowly a red dragon emerged from between the trees and made his way towards her, stopping at the base of the knoll and looking up at her.

"There you are," he muttered, "I thought you'd be here. What are you doing?"

The pink dragoness attempted to reply with a look of disdain, but couldn't help but smile at the red dragon.

"Well," she said, "I was doing a nice bit of thinking until you showed up."

Flame wrinkled his nose and climbed up the knoll to her side, "Thinking? Don't you mean daydreaming?"

She poked her tongue out at him playfully, and he rolled his eyes. Ember was just about to berate him for interrupting her daydream, when she suddenly noticed his appearance. The red dragon was covered in bruises and scratches and there was a nasty bite mark on the back of his neck that was crusted with dried blood. There was a rather disgruntled look on his battered face.

Ember remembered that expression; it was the one he always wore after an argument. However it was his condition that shocked her the most. Flame was a talented fighter, and quick on his feet, not to mention his skill with his fire breath was not to be laughed at. So who or what had managed to get the better of him?

"What happened to you?" she asked, her voice rising an octave or two.

Flame curled his lip slightly in irritation and looked away, "Some jerk of a dragon picked a fit with me."

"Oh?" Ember raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Aren't you usually the one who picks the fights?"

He snorted in reply and violently tore a chunk of grass from the earth, tossing it aside and glaring at it as though it had offended him. Ember stood up slowly, stretching like a cat and yawning wide. She moved to Flame's side, nudging him with her hips.

"Looks like you came off second best this time," she teased, grinning. "So, who was it? Not Delos again?"

Flame snorted again, "Hah, I could beat that idiot with my eyes closed. No, it was some new guy. He was trespassing so I—"

"New guy?" Ember asked, cutting him off, "You mean from _outside_?"

The red dragon whirled on her, his eyes wild and angry for some reason unknown to her, "How should I know? But I know that he isn't trustworthy! He's convinced everyone else that the war is finally over, but I bet he's just a spy for that Malefor."

Ember glared at him and placed a paw beneath his chin, forcibly shutting his mouth with a quick flick of her wrist. He glared back at her, gold eyes burning with fire.

"Don't even say that name, Flame," her eyes glimmered with equal ferocity. "The Dark Master is not someone we talk about lightly. Is this why you came to get me?"

Flame glared into the distance for a moment before nodding slowly, "Yeah. Thasos wants you to meet this new guy. He brought a whole group with him, about nine dragons. He says they're a search party, and they look harmless enough, but who knows? Maybe he's deceiving us."

"What's his name?" Ember asked, curious, ignoring the anger in Flame's voice.

"Ask him yourself," Flame growled, a bite of venom in his tone.

The red dragon stalked into the forest, back in the direction of the settlement, leaving Ember standing on the knoll watching him. She sighed and shook her head, fed up with Flame's hot-headedness, and wandered into the forest after him. Whoever this new dragon was he had definitely got Flame worked up, and Ember was eager to see just what sort of dragon he was. There had to be a reason why Flame was being so uptight about him. But the pink dragoness could only speculate on what it was.

* * *

Thasos led the two younger dragons and Sparx back to the settlement after almost an hour of talking. Spyro and Cynder had filled the older dragon in on the goings on of the outside world. They had explained the war to him, and the situation at Warfang, as well as detailing the death of Malefor at their hands. Needless to say, Thasos was now rather impressed by the two of them. They had accomplished more than any grown dragon could even dream about.

Entirely convinced at last that the war was truly over, Thasos was ready to discuss plans with Spyro. Those plans were, of course, to leave this hidden area they called home and journey across to the mainland and the city of Warfang.

They approached the small village to find the local dragons sitting together with the dragons from Warfang, talking and chatting amongst one another. Spyro watched them, feeling somewhat relieved.

"It looks like they've been accepted," he said to Cynder, "perhaps they've warmed up to us, too."

With that hopeful thought in mind, Spyro approached the nearest group of dragons with Cynder at his side. They turned to look at him and for a moment their eyes filled with suspicions and apprehension. Spyro faltered, unsure, until one of the dragons gave him a wide grin and beckoned him over.

"Hey, purple fellow!" a yellow dragon called, stretching out an electric blue wing. "Come join us!"

Spyro grinned and led Cynder over to them as the group of dragons stood up to greet them. The yellow dragon that had called them over bared his teeth in a wide smile and held out a paw. Spyro replied by extending his own paw and slapping its pad against the pad of the yellow dragon's paw, as a way of greeting. He grinned up at the yellow dragon, who was a good two heads taller than him and obviously older.

"The name's Naxos," the dragon stated cheerfully, puffing out his chest. "What did Thasos say your name was, again?"

"Spyro," the purple dragon replied, "and this is Cynder. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Naxos replied as his friends stepped forwards to greet the two younger dragons. "Good to see a young dragon with a wise head on his shoulders that's not full of hot air, unlike our Flame."

"He's gonna get you for that one," giggled a young female, who was a pale green colour like the underbelly of a leaf.

"I'll just tell him Delos said it," was Naxos's reply, a devilish grin on his muzzle.

"Chios is the name," the green female said to Spyro and Cynder, "but you can call me Chi."

After a moment of exchanging greetings, Spyro and Cynder sat down on the grass with the older dragons. They exchanged friendly banter for the moment, although Spyro and Cynder found they were doing most of the talking, until Thasos approached them.

"Have you see Flame and Ember?" he asked Naxos, flashing Spyro a quick smile.

"Those two?" Naxos asked, turning his head towards the trees behind him. "If I'm not mistaken, that's them now."

Thasos turned towards the trees and, sure enough, the outlines of two young dragons began to appear out of the shadows. Flame's expression was as sully as ever, his shoulders hunched in irritation as he stalked back into the village. Ember followed more slowly, stepping daintily over the slippery leaves in the undergrowth. Spyro stood up, stepping around Naxos to gain a better view at the two dragons who had just entered the town. Cynder slipped to his side, her expression curious.

The first thing that shocked Spyro about Ember was the colour of her scales. They were a smooth, pale pink, almost like the rosy sky of a sunset. He had never seen a dragon with such a colour before. Her breast-scales were vibrant gold, like Flame's, as well as the membranes of her wings. The tip of her tail was shaped like an upside down heart and there was a golden necklet around her neck adorned with a glimmering, ruby heart. The crest of her head was pale violet and her eyes were vibrant blue, like the sky at midday. If Spyro had ever thought there could be a dragoness to rival Cynder's beauty, this was she.

Ember's eyes found Spyro almost instantly. He stood out like a sore thumb, a vibrant purple dragon in the middle of this humble town. Her expression turned to shock and her eyes widened in their sockets.

"Ah, Ember!" Thasos called. "There you are! Been off daydreaming again, have you? I'd like you to meet someone."

Ember flashed him a quick smile before her eyes turned again to Spyro, "You mean him? A _purple _dragon? No wonder Flame was so uptight."

The red dragon grumbled at her comment but said nothing to combat it. She stepped forwards quickly, brushing past Thasos and moving close to Spyro. She squinted her eyes at his scales as though trying to gauge whether the colour was real or not, before moving close to his face. Spyro shrank back, slightly nervous at having her so close.

"So," she said, "you're the one that beat Flame up?"

"Uh…" Spyro mumbled, stunned and unable to answer.

"I thought so," she sighed, "nice job—"

"What!" screeched Flame, jumping to his feet from where he had been resting beneath one of the shelters.

Ember ignored him, "But don't do it again. I'd prefer it if you didn't hurt my friend."

"R-right…" Spyro mumbled, taking a step back.

A smile suddenly appeared on Ember's face, so bright it almost hurt his eyes, "My name's Ember! What's your name?"

"Spyro," he replied, relieved that she wasn't so close now, "nice to meet you."

Cynder glowered at the pink dragoness, not liking at all how close she had gotten to her purple dragon. She stepped up to Spyro's side quickly, pressing against him and giving Ember a tense smile.

"My name is Cynder," she said, in an attempt to be civil.

Ember looked her over and smiled again, "Cynder. Nice to meet you. But, if you don't mind me asking, where are you two from?"

By now the whole village had paused and was watching. Silence reigned as the dragons waited for Spyro to answer. Aware that he had the attention of every dragon in the village, Spyro answered Ember's question.

"From the mainland," he said, "although we used to live in the Dragon Temple a few years ago. We come from the dragon city of Warfang."

Ember nodded, "Right, and what have you come here for?"

"You know," muttered Sparx, annoyed by the way she was treating them, as though they were trespassers to be interrogated, "if you had been here earlier, you'd already know."

The pink dragoness paused, her confidence faltering suddenly. She turned to look almost pleadingly at Thasos, and the old dragon heaved a sigh.

"They came to tell us of the Dark Master's demise," Thasos said to her, knowing Spyro wouldn't want to repeat himself for a third time. "The war is over."

"And is it?" Ember asked insistently.

She didn't seem at all surprised and Spyro surmised that Flame had already told her the news that he and his search party had come to spread. Every dragon in the village looked up at the question, looking eagerly at Thasos for an answer. It was a question that had remained unspoken, but Ember had voiced it aloud. Thasos looked around at the expectant faces, some hopeful, others, like Flame, sceptical. The old orange dragon nodded his large head slowly.

"Yes," he said to his village, "the war is over. The purple dragon speaks the truth."

Relieved sighs echoed throughout the village and Naxos could be heard claiming that he never doubted Spyro's word. Flame's scales bristled in anger and he snarled angrily at the purple dragon's back. But Ember seemed just as relieved as the rest of the village. She turned around to face Spyro again, beaming at him. Cynder refrained from glaring at her, and wondered why she agitated her so much. Perhaps it was just the overly happy expression on her face, or the way she had moved so close to Spyro upon first seeing him. Whatever it was, Cynder only knew that this Ember was getting on her last nerve.

She glowered at the pink dragoness as she eagerly asked Spyro about the end of the war. Spyro was only too happy to reply and spent the next twenty minutes telling Ember the story of his travels and how he and Cynder had come to finally defeat Malefor. The pink dragon listened well, gasping and laughing at all the right parts. Sparx lay bored on Spyro's horn, watching the clouds move slowly overhead, as Cynder stood off to the side, seething with annoyance towards the pink dragoness. None of them noticed the furious look on Flame's face as he glared daggers at Spyro, his claws digging slowly deeper into the earth.

Eventually it was Thasos who interrupted them, much to Cynder's relief. Flame's shoulders relaxed as Ember stepped away from Spyro to allow Thasos room. The older dragon smiled down at Spyro.

"I think it's time we discussed plans," Thasos murmured, keeping his voice low so that only Spyro and those around him could hear. "Come with me."

"Plans?" Ember asked curiously, but no one answered her.

Spyro nodded quickly and followed Thasos towards one of the shabby huts, with Cynder and Sparx beside him. Ember watched them go, her eyes full of curiosity, until Flame stepped up to her side. She turned her gaze on him to see that he was looking even more agitated than before.

"What is it?" she asked, sensing how tense he was.

"Stay away from him," Flame growled, his tone deep and full of warning,

Ember rolled her eyes, "Don't be so uptight. He's a nice guy if you just talk to him."

She ignored his snort of scepticism and moved towards the hut that the purple dragon had disappeared into, beckoning for Flame to follow, "Come on. I want to see what they're planning…"

Flame grunted his annoyance but followed anyway, just as eager to see what the purple dragon was discussing with Thasos. Whatever it was, Flame had convinced himself that it wasn't going to be good. He already had a nagging suspicion of what it was, and that suspicion was about to be proved correct. Brushing aside the woven reed mat that hung over the door, Ember beckoned for him to follow her into the hut. He did so with little hesitation.

It was dark inside, the only sunlight coming from the small amount that seeped through the reed mat and left dotted spots of light on the floor. The hut was split into two rooms, the one behind slightly smaller than the other. Ember crept carefully over to the doorway that separated the two rooms and poked her head in. Spyro, Thasos and Cynder looked up instantly, their faces illuminated by the small glass lantern in the centre of the room. Ember felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Um, I'm sorry," she mumbled, "but…could we join you?"

"We?" Sparx asked, raising an eyebrow.

Flame suddenly came into view as he moved to Ember's side. Thasos considered them for a moment and nodded slowly.

"Of course, young dragons," he invited them in, "you should hear this."

Neither Cynder nor Sparx seemed particularly happy about letting the other two in; Sparx because he was wary of Flame, and Cynder because she had developed a certain animosity towards Ember. But neither of them said a word in protest as the two dragons moved into the room and settled down beside Thasos. Spyro flashed them both a smile, but only Ember returned it. The purple dragon turned his eyes back to Thasos.

"You were saying?" he asked.

Thasos paused, thinking as he tried to remember where he left off, "Ah yes. About the plight of the dragon city, you say there are very little dragons in Warfang?"

Spyro nodded, "That's right. There is only about fifty dragons left in Warfang after the war, and without dragons the city isn't prospering. Our species will die out if we can't find more dragons. That's why we came searching, in the hope that there were dragons that still remained in hiding that we could convince to come back to Warfang."

"I understand," Thasos nodded slowly, "we are a very small society, but I suppose some is better than none. I will spread the word to the others that we are returning with you to Warfang."

"That is okay with you?" Spyro asked hesitantly.

Thasos replied with a kindly smile, "Not to worry, young dragon. We are sick of living in hiding. It will be good to return to the great city of Warfang once more."

But at that moment Flame erupted. He was on his feet in an instant, standing up so fast he knocked the lantern over.

"Wait a minute!" he growled, glaring both at Thasos and Spyro. "You want us to leave here?"

His hackles rose as he snarled at the purple dragon, "I knew it! I knew you were untrustworthy! You want to take us from this place, where we are safe, to the outside world? That place is ravaged by war! We wouldn't last a day! You've been sent here by the Dark Master to lure us out of hiding, don't try to pretend you haven't!"

"Flame!" Ember hissed, righting the lantern before the fire within went out.

But the red dragon ignored her, and stepped threateningly towards Spyro, who hadn't moved an inch from his spot. Cynder growled, digging her claws into the earth, ready to defend her purple dragon at any cost.

"I won't let you deceive everyone!" Flame roared, smoke pouring from his nostrils, "And I will kill you before you can give our location away to your bastard of a master!"

But before the red dragon could make another move, a hefty paw had swung around and hit him in the side of the head. Flame was knocked to the ground where he landed heavily beside Ember, who quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid being crushed by her friend. The red dragon groaned, tenderly feeling his face where a large bruise was beginning to form. Thasos glowered down at the young dragon, having jumped to his feet when he had struck him. Flame opened one eye, wincing, as he raised his head from the ground.

"Thasos…what…?" he growled, grimacing at the pain of being knocked to the ground by the much larger dragon.

"That's quite enough out of you, young dragon!" Thasos snorted, his usually kind brown eyes now glistening with anger, "I will not have you extending a claw towards an innocent dragon! Have you not been told? The war is over! There is no more danger, and there is no more Malefor! This dragon Spyro is our saviour, not our enemy!"

"And you believe this rubbish he's feeding you?" Flame growled, struggling to his feet.

Ember shrank away from him, and Cynder glared daggers at him, but Spyro merely watched the red dragon with a carefully blank expression on his face. Thasos's eyes hardened as he looked down on Flame.

"Yes, Flame, I truly believe him," the old dragon stated, "I do not believe that we should have to wait out our lives here in fear of what could be waiting beyond these walls! If I didn't know better, young dragon, I'd say you were afraid of the outside world! After all the trouble of saving your egg, raising you and teaching you how to defend yourself, this is how you act? I hadn't realised that my most prized pupil was such a coward!"

Silence reigned in the hut as Thasos's booming voice died away. Flame sat trembling on the ground, staring up at his mentor with both shock and anger clearly etched across his face. The red dragon snarled and turned his face away, almost as though he were ashamed. Ember moved carefully to Flame's side, wary of the possibility he may turn on her. But the red dragon had never laid a claw on the pink dragoness and he wasn't about to change that. He let out an angry sigh.

"I'm not…I'm not afraid," he mumbled without meeting his mentor's eyes, "I just don't trust him."

Thasos let out a smoky snort, "Then, _start_ trusting him. There is nothing not to trust."

The old dragon turned his eyes on Spyro, apologetically, "Forgive me, Spyro. I hadn't realised he would become so aggressive."

But Spyro only shook his head and turned his attention to Flame. The red dragon looked up when he realised the purple dragon was looking at him.

"I understand, Flame," Spyro murmured, "I hadn't meant to intrude like this. I understand you see me as a trespasser, an invader perhaps, and you believe that I mean harm to your village. But believe me, that is not my intention. Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable."

Flame considered him for a moment, the ghost of a glare still on his face, before he turned away with a huff. Ember sighed with relief and relaxed next to him, glad that he was no longer trying to attack Spyro. Cynder loosened her claws from the earth, but didn't let her guard down. Sparx came out from behind Thasos, warily moving back to Spyro's side. Thasos remained standing, watching the four dragons until he was sure everything had calmed down, before sitting down himself. He turned his eyes back to Spyro.

"Now that that's settled," Thasos continued from where they left off, "how soon would you want us to depart, Spyro?"

"How quickly can you be ready?" the purple dragon asked.

Thasos paused, thinking, "I'd say we could be ready by midday tomorrow."

"Then, we leave tomorrow," Spyro announced, looking to Flame, Ember, and Cynder for any objections.

No one objected, although Flame didn't look too happy. Thasos agreed with a simple nod and Spyro cracked a smile.

"I think we should inform everyone," Cynder said, standing up, eager to get out of the cramped hut.

"Good suggestion, my dear," yawned Thasos, "and we can find you sleeping quarters for the night."

The three of them and Sparx headed back outside, leaving Ember and Flame sitting alone in the hut. The pink dragoness looked over her friend with a concerned expression. He kept his eyes on the ground, ashamed, perhaps, to look at her. She nudged him gently, enticing him to raise his head.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

His eyes hardened, "I'm fine."

"Alright," she stood up, "let's go join them outside."

Flame waited until she was gone before he stood up. His golden eyes moved to the glass lantern, within which a tiny flame was dancing and wavering. If he looked close enough, Flame could see his own reflection in the glass, distorted by the flickering fire within. He narrowed his eyes at his reflection.

"I'm not afraid," he mumbled again, as though to convince himself. "I'm not afraid of anything."

Wincing, he raised his paw up to the bruised side of his face. It wasn't the first time Thasos had struck him, although it hadn't happened in a while. Flame always hated getting struck by his mentor, but this time it stung more than just his physical body. Ashamed and humiliated, Flame glared at the lantern before knocking it over with a violent swipe of his paw. The flame flickered for a moment and went out, emitting a tiny stream of smoke from the wick. The red dragon turned away from the lantern and moved for the door.

"Damn you, Spyro," he muttered softly to himself.

Without another word, he brushed the reed curtain aside and stepped out into the light.

**A/N: Well it was long and it was boring, but if you're reading this that means you made it through, so it can't be that bad! More dragons named after Greek islands, again. Some of the explanations in this chapter seem totally implausible (such as the whole 'super volcano' thing) but don't think too much about it. This is FanFiction, anything can happen! I also mentioned that the raid on the Dragon Temple occurred 15 years ago; that would make Spyro 15 years old at most. This is just an estimation on my part (I decided fifteen was a nice round number). Now I'm off to upload the next chapter...**


	6. Preparations

**6. Preparations**

When Thasos announced the plan to his village, Spyro had expected an uproar as bad as Flame's reaction had been. However, while there was much muttering and whispers in the crowd, no one called out in deliberate disagreement. Naxos exchanged a dubious look with the dragoness beside him, Chios, who stepped forward to address Thasos and Spyro. The green dragoness looked both worried and doubtful.

"You want us to leave this place?" she asked, her voice carrying through the crowd, quivering with disbelief. "Our home? It's been almost fifteen years, Thasos…"

"We don't know what it's like out there," Naxos put in, a furrow in his brow. "It will be strange to leave this place after so long spent here. And Flame and Ember…they were born here. They know nothing else."

Although he had been expecting something like this, Spyro's spirits sank none the less. He sighed and turned a helpless glance to Thasos, who emitted a puff of smoke from his mouth as though in defeat. But Naxos wasn't done yet.

"However…"

Spyro looked up in surprise at the yellow dragon's change of tone. There was a wild spark of adventure in his eyes and a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. Chios glanced at her friend, a slow grin spreading across her muzzle. Every dragon had stopped and was watching Naxos, waiting for him to continue.

"If we lived our entire lives here, think of all the things we'd miss," Naxos announced to the crowd, "think of the ocean we haven't seen for years; think of the old dragon temple alone in its majesty; think of the mainland and its wild nature, of mountains, rivers, valleys and plains; think of the mighty city of Warfang, that some of us have yet to see; and think of the dragons that exist outside of our paradise, those dragons who live in the real world who we'd never get to meet if we never left. Think about it!"

Naxos let his eyes sweep over the entranced crowd and raised his voice, "Don't you think its time we returned to the real world?"

Shocked silence fell as every dragon considered Naxos's words. Even Flame, who had just emerged from the hut, was considering those words. And just like that, their uncertainty forgotten, every dragon present gave his roar of approval. Flame huffed and turned his head away, however even he couldn't stop the grin that etched its way onto his face. Thasos heaved a relieved sigh, sitting back on his haunches as he considered Naxos, who was now busy walking through the crowd and spreading excitement through their heads.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances and grinned. The purple dragon turned his eyes to Naxos.

"You know," he murmured, "if I had said the same thing, I bet it wouldn't have had the same effect."

"Why's that?" Cynder asked curiously, cocking her head to the side.

"Because," Spyro grinned as Naxos turned his head to wink at him, "it takes one of their own to convince them."

Cynder looked surprised for a moment before turning her eyes on the crowd, who were now hovering around Naxos as he dramatically described the outside world with extravagant gestures. A soft smile touched her lips.

"You're right."

* * *

Spyro and Cynder spent the night in one of the small huts within the village. Their search party had split up, staying in different huts with the local dragons. Sparx had joined the purple dragon and the black dragoness in their hut and had fallen asleep almost instantly, stretched out across Spyro's horn. The two dragons lay side by side for a while, awake and thinking. Slivers of moonlight seeped through the thatched roof of the hut, striping their scales with silvery light.

Cynder yawned and lay her head down on her paws sleepily, shifting closer to Spyro to absorb his warmth. The purple dragon smiled down at her and gently curled his tail around hers.

"We leave for Warfang tomorrow," he murmured, softly so as to not wake Sparx.

"Terrador must be waiting for us," Cynder replied, stifling a yawn. "I wonder if the other search parties have returned."

"I wonder if they found any dragons," was Spyro's reply, and received an agreeable hum from Cynder in return.

He lay his head down carefully on his paws next to Cynder and snuggled closer to her. She purred sleepily and closed her eyes, content to sleep beside the purple dragon. When she had slipped into the realm of slumber, however, Spyro remained awake. His thoughts turned to Thasos and Ignitus as he gazed dolefully at the reed mat that covered the doorway. He had realised, after Thasos had spoken about Ignitus, that there was so much he didn't know about his old mentor.

It was hard to imagine the old fire guardian as a young dragon, Spyro's own age. He wondered what Ignitus would have thought if he knew that Spyro had met one of his old friends and rivals, the very dragon that had competed against him for title of Fire Guardian. What would have happened if Thasos had become the guardian instead of Ignitus? With that last curious thought in mind, Spyro's eyelids slid shut over his tired eyes and he delved into the realm of sleep and dreams.

'_Spyro!'_

_The purple dragon looked up from his slumber, gazing around the room. The pool of visions glimmered beside him, its water as still and flat as glass. The room was deserted, but for him. Spyro looked around, listening for that voice._

'_Spyro!'_

'_Ignitus?' he called, standing up. 'Is that you?'_

'_Spyro! We need your help!' the voice called again, strained, from somewhere out of sight._

_The purple dragon began to run, bursting through the door into what should have been the training room. However, what met his eyes was different. The sky surrounded him on all sides, a band of writhing darkness laced with threatening silver strikes of lightning. He stood at the very top of a dark and forbidding tower, the surface beneath his paws cold, hard, and white. Spyro knew this place. It was a place of nightmares, known as Concurrent Skies. This was the lair of the Terror of the Skies. _

_As Terrador had once said, this is where hope goes to die._

_The purple dragon walked forwards hesitantly, gazing timidly at the lightning laced sky, until his eyes caught sight of an old fiery dragon hanging suspended in the air in a flashing orb of purple electricity. Spyro's eyes widened in horror._

'_Ignitus!'_

_He knew he had to get his mentor out of this place, before _she_ came. But even as he stepped forwards to run towards the suspended dragon, a great shadow fell over him. Trembling, he raised his eyes up to the full-grown dragoness that loomed over him, her eyes flashing menacingly as the lightning tore the sky open. Spyro froze as she curled around him and he saw that her scales were pearly pink, not black like he had expected._

'_How sad, young dragon,' she hissed. 'You can't save him.'_

'_Ember!' His voice quivered. 'Let me go!'_

'_Why have you come here?' she hissed in his ear, curling tighter around him._

_A deep roar ripped itself from his throat and he swiped at her, 'I came to save Ignitus!'_

_His claws went straight through her and she evaporated like smoke, fading into the night sky as swiftly as she had appeared. Spyro stood trembling, confused, before running for the suspended body of his mentor._

'_Ignitus, Ignitus!'_

_The old dragon raised his head, blinking tired brown eyes, 'Is that you, Spyro?'_

_Spyro skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief at the orange dragon, 'Thasos? But, where's Ignitus?'_

_Thasos looked confused for a moment, hanging suspended above the purple dragon, 'Don't you remember, Spyro? Ignitus never made it through his guardian training.'_

'_What?' Spyro screeched, stepping backwards. 'But that's impossible!'_

_A mocking laugh reached him from within the shadows and the purple dragon spun around in fear. A red dragon no bigger than Spyro himself had appeared out of the darkness, walking forwards with cold determination. He grinned at Spyro mockingly, narrowing his golden eyes._

'_Guess I was too tough for him, huh?' Flame's grin widened and Spyro noticed with horror the blood on his claws. 'So much for a fire guardian.'_

_With a screech of terror, Spyro turned and fled from the crimson dragon, only to skid to a halt at the edge of the platform. He stared over the edge, his horror-filled eyes taking in the unfathomable darkness below him. Flame was slowly approaching from behind, Thasos still hanging suspended in the same spot. Spyro spun around, trembling, but there was nowhere to run. Flame bared his teeth in a wild grin._

'_No!' Spyro yelled, stepping back only to feel one of his paws slip over the edge of the platform. He yanked his paw back quickly, shaking in fear._

_He was alone, utterly alone, and there was no place to hide, nowhere to run. Thasos stared dolefully at him._

'_I always envied him,' the old dragon murmured, his voice ringing hollowly in the silence._

'_Spyro,' purred Ember, who had just appeared out of the darkness, her body elongated into that of a full-grown dragoness. 'Why have you come here, Spyro?'_

'_Spyro,' Flame growled, 'get out.'_

'_I can't!' he wanted to yell, but his voice seemed to have stuck in his throat._

'_Spyro!' Thasos called, but it was Ignitus's voice that Spyro heard._

'_Spyro!'_

'_Get out!'_

'_I can't, I can't, I can't!'_

'_Spyro!'_

"Spyro!" the purple dragon woke with a start at the sound of Cynder's voice.

He lay still for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, as he tried to remember where he was. Cynder was standing over him, a worried expression on her face. It took him a few moments to calm down and regain his bearings before he was able to raise his head to face her.

"You okay?" she asked, concerned. "You're shaking."

He looked down at his paws and saw that they were indeed trembling. Hesitantly he raised a paw to his face, rubbing sweat off the bridge of his muzzle.

"I'm fine," he managed to reply, "Just a bad dream."

Cynder considered him with concern, not entirely convinced. He gave her a smile as though to prove he was all right and she turned away with a sigh.

"Well, okay," she turned her head to look at him again, "Thasos wants us outside as soon as possible. We want to leave by midday."

Spyro nodded slowly as Cynder exited the hut, leaving him alone with his thoughts. The purple dragon gazed around the empty hut. It was lighter now and Spyro realised it must be morning. He stood up slowly, noticing that Sparx was gone, and shook himself awake.

"What a strange dream," he mumbled, staring at his paws.

After a moment Spyro made for the door and brushed the reed mat aside. Outside it was already morning, however the tall rock walls that surrounded this place had blocked out most of the sunlight. The white clouds above them refracted sunlight down into the village.

Spyro looked around for Cynder, only to find her standing with Thasos and another green dragon he didn't know. He made his way towards them, walking slowly as he watched dragons hurry backwards and forwards between huts, stopping to chat amongst each other every now and then. The village was a bustling hive of activity. Absently, Spyro wondered where Flame and Ember were.

'Spyro!" Thasos called, beckoning the purple dragon over.

Spyro returned his smile and came to a stop at Cynder's side. The green dragon nodded kindly at him and Spyro considered him curiously. He was a full-grown male with vibrant, emerald scales the deep green colour of forest leaves. Earthy brown was the colour of his horns and chest plate, and the membrane of his wings was pale green. He was obviously younger than Thasos, and Spyro supposed he was perhaps as old as Naxos. This was a full-grown dragon in his prime.

"Spyro, this is Seriphos," Thasos announced, gesturing to the green male. "Before the raid on the temple, Seriphos was being trained to eventually become captain of the guard. He's a very reliable and strong member of our society."

Seriphos smiled at the purple dragon, "A pleasure to meet you; Spyro, is it? I hope we can work together."

Spyro liked him instantly, "I'm sure we can, Seriphos."

"Good, good," smiled Thasos. "Now, we need to prepare to leave this place. Seriphos, I'm leaving you in charge of the citizens. Make sure no one gets left behind."

The green dragon nodded, "Can do."

"What can we do to help?" Cynder asked as Seriphos moved off to assist the rest of the village.

Thasos thought for a moment, "Most of the citizens are gathering their belongings together. Your job will simply be to lead us to the mainland. You are our guide. Now, in the meantime, perhaps you could go help your dragonfly friend. He's a little overwhelmed, I believe, but he insisted on clearing out our storage."

Spyro raised an eyebrow and turned in the direction Thasos was looking. The storage hut was smaller than the other huts and settled at the very edge of the trees. The sounds of banging and cursing could be heard from within and Spyro nodded his thanks to Thasos before hurrying over. Cynder followed on behind, wondering just what Sparx was up to.

Spyro brushed the reed mat aside and gazed into the small storage space curiously. Almost instantly a few woven containers fell from above him, almost striking his nose. They landed in a heap on the floor and Spyro stifled a laugh as Sparx crawled out of the pile, grumbling. There was a silver anklet looped around his shoulders and he was covered in some sort of red powder, which, judging from the smell, was a spice of sorts. The dragonfly glared up at his brother.

"What are you looking at?" he grumbled, dusting himself off and angrily flinging the anklet away into a corner.

"What are you doing, Sparx?" Spyro laughed, grinning at the dragonfly.

"Cleaning out their stuff, of course," Sparx sniffed indignantly, only to sneeze as some of the red spice got up his nose.

Sniffling, Sparx rubbed his face, "Who would have thought such a small place could have so much stuff?"

Spyro stared at the baskets littering the floor and noticed there was still a considerable amount of woven baskets on the shelves. From the looks of it, they were all filled with spices, jewellery, armour and cloth. Spyro frowned.

"What is all this stuff?" he wondered aloud, "How did they get it all?"

"Looks like you've found our storage hut," laughed a voice and the two of them turned to find Milos walking towards them.

Spyro grinned, "Hey, Milos, I suppose you can tell me where all this stuff came from?"

The green dragon looked over the contents of the baskets, grinning to himself, before turning to Spyro.

"It surprises me that we kept all of this," he grinned. "We had all of this long before the raid on the temple forced us to move here. It's all supplies from Warfang that they sent from the mainland. We carried it with us when we fled here."

Sparx wrinkled his nose, "You mean all this stuff has been here for that long? Ugh. No wonder it's so dusty."

Milos only shook his head, amused, "Don't bother trying to sort all this stuff out. Take anything you think might be useful, the rest can stay."

"Alright," Spyro agreed, "thanks, Milos."

The two of them spent the next half an hour digging through the baskets and their contents. Spyro ignored the spices but dwelled a while over the armour and jewellery. Deciding he had enough armour back at Warfang, the purple dragon set them aside. However his eye was caught by a set of glimmering silver anklets and he was reminded that Cynder always wore anklets. These anklets were dusty, but with a good bit of polishing they'd sparkle like the stars. Small moonstones were set around the base of each anklet in smooth, glimmering domes.

"I wonder if Cynder would like them…" he muttered to himself.

Spyro looked around for the black dragoness, suddenly noticing she wasn't with them. Poking his head out of the storage hut, he looked around the village for her but didn't see her anywhere. Frowning, Spyro turned to Sparx to ask him. The dragonfly had disappeared into the basket of spices and when Spyro called his name he poked his head out of the basket, covered in many different coloured powders and smelling very interesting indeed.

"What's up?" he asked, before sneezing again.

"Have you seen Cynder?" Spyro asked, ignoring the dragonfly's appearance.

"The she-dragon? Nah, I haven't seen her," he sneezed again, "but check out all this spice! Smells almost as bad as you do!"

Ignoring his brother, Spyro snatched an old piece of cloth from one of the baskets and laid it flat on the floor. Grabbing the set of anklets he placed them in the middle of the cloth and, with a considerable amount of difficulty, used his tail and claws to pull the corners of the cloth up and tie them into a secure knot. Grabbing the little package with his tail, Spyro trotted off to find Cynder. When Sparx next surfaced from the basket of spice, he found the purple dragon gone. With a shrug he leapt into the next basket and lost himself in a sea of multicoloured cloths.

Spyro wandered through the village searching for Cynder, the little package swinging merrily on the end of his tail. At the edge of the trees he caught sight of Flame and Ember sitting together, talking quietly. Flame looked up as he passed and shot him the usual glare, but Ember's smile made up for it. With a grin and a wave that made Flame's scowl deepen, Spyro hurried on to find Cynder. He found her moments later, walking out of the trees with the green dragoness Chios. Pleased to see his black dragoness again, Spyro made a beeline straight for her.

"Cynder! Where have you been?" he asked, stopping in front of her.

"Oh," Cynder smiled apologetically at him, "Chios asked me to help her gather herbs. Sorry I didn't tell you. Did you and Sparx clean out the storage hut?"

"The storage hut?" Chios laughed. "Hah! Half the stuff in there is useless, anyway."

"That's what we found out," Spyro grinned wryly, "but Sparx seems to be enjoying himself."

Cynder looked past him, gazing out over the village. Thasos and Seriphos were talking to each other in the middle of the village, and Sparx was flying out of the storage hut, dusting spices from his antennae.

"Looks like we'll be ready to go soon," Chios noted, swinging the basket of herbs on her tail. "Thanks for your help, Cynder, I'm gonna go find Naxos."

Spyro waited until the green dragoness was gone before addressing Cynder. He set the small bundle down on the grass in front of her and she stared curiously at it.

"I found something you might like," Spyro explained, undoing the knot with a claw. "Here."

Cynder let out a gasp of delight as her eyes fell on the glimmering anklets. She picked one up delicately in her paw, inspecting the metalwork and the ring of moonstones set into it. Spyro sat nervously watching her.

"So…do you like them?" he asked nervously, a blush spread across his scales.

"Spyro, they're beautiful!" she exclaimed, flashing him a dazzling smile.

Spyro's heart fluttered in his chest and he turned his eyes bashfully away from her, "I thought you might like them…they need a bit of a polish first, but I can do that once we get back to Warfang. Of course you don't have to wear them if you don't want to, I just thought, because they're so beautiful and all, they would suit you, but if you don't want to…"

Before he could say anything more, Cynder leant forward in a flash and licked his cheek. Spyro froze for a moment, stunned, and felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Cynder leant back, blushing shyly, and gathered the anklets back into a bundle.

"Thank you, Spyro," she purred, hooking the bundle onto her tail, "I'll gladly wear them."

Spyro felt his head spin and he grinned groggily, "R-Right."

She giggled at his expression, just as Sparx approached. The yellow dragonfly flopped down on Spyro's head and sneezed for the hundredth time. Cynder rolled her eyes, annoyed that he had ruined the moment. But the dragonfly didn't notice at all.

"Phew! Those spices sure do get up the nose!" Sparx announced, sniffing. "Old Thasos is getting everybody together over there. Looks like we're gonna be leaving soon."

"We'd better go join them," Spyro agreed, beckoning to Cynder, "Come on."

The three of them headed towards the centre of the village where Seriphos was shepherding all of the dragons together in front of Thasos. Sestos and Milos stood either side of Thasos, and Spyro could see Flame and Ember standing to the side. He hurried forwards with Sparx and Cynder and skidded to a halt beside Sestos. The blue dragon smiled warmly at him, and Thasos bobbed his head. The orange dragon looked over the crowd in front of him, formed both of the dragons of his village and the nine dragons of Spyro's search party.

"Is everyone here?" Thasos called to the dragons.

Every dragon bobbed his head and Thasos looked to Seriphos for confirmation. The green dragon nodded his head once and, satisfied, Thasos addressed the crowd. There was complete silence as he spoke.

"Listen to me well, my comrades. I will not repeat myself," Thasos's voice boomed throughout the village. "If you have not done so yet, you may wish to gather all the belongings you wish to take with you. It is likely we will not return here, so I would suggest you not leave anything precious behind."

There was a few mumbles in the crowd at this statement but Seriphos hushed them quickly with a deep rumble in his throat. Thasos waited until the mutterings had stopped before continuing.

"We will soon leave this place, perhaps for good. You are to obey all orders from Seriphos, Sestos, Milos, and the purple dragon, as well as myself. Spyro will be our guide and you are to listen to everything he tells us," Thasos looked around the crowd sternly for any objections. "Is that clear?"

Every head nodded in agreement, even Flame's. Thasos nodded in satisfaction and addressed the crowd one last time.

"You have twenty minutes. We will leave as soon as that time is up."

Most of the dragons sat down where they stood, leaving the minority to see to things they might have forgotten. Spyro wandered up to Thasos, Cynder beside him. Flame and Ember had settled with the rest of the crowd and were watching them. Thasos looked down at the purple dragon.

"Ah, Spyro. Now that we have a moment, there are a few things I would like to tell you that I have not yet," the orange dragon said.

Spyro looked surprised, "What would they be?"

"Well," Thasos hesitated, "regarding something you said earlier…about being one of only two eggs that survived the raid on the Dragon Temple."

"What about it?" Spyro asked curiously.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Thasos explained. "You see, there were two eggs we saved from the temple that we hatched here in secret."

Spyro's eyes widened in realisation, "You mean…?"

"Yes," Thasos nodded, "Flame and Ember hatched from those two eggs. We snatched the eggs up on our way past, determined to at least save some of our young ones. I just thought you should know."

"I understand. Thank you for telling us," Spyro exchanged a glance with Cynder, who was looking a little shocked. Spyro wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was.

"And another thing," Thasos continued, "because I believe you need to know this."

"What is it?" Spyro pressed, curious to know what it was.

Thasos looked down on him, "I have been training Flame up to become a guardian. That is why he is so protective of this place and the dragons within it."

"A guardian," Spyro murmured, his eyes straying to where the red dragon sat beside Ember, "I see."

The three dragons stood in silence for a while until Sparx interrupted them. The dragonfly had folded his arms and was looking slightly annoyed, although Spyro wasn't sure why.

"All right, now about something _you _said earlier," Sparx said to Thasos, his voice somewhat threatening. "You said that dragonflies pass backwards and forwards between this place and the swamp. So then, if that's the case, then why didn't mum and dad ever tell me about it!"

Thasos looked surprised, "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Sparx. I don't know who your parents were, but perhaps they never encountered this place. It was very rare for a dragonfly to ever take the trip down here, and I can imagine that only the most daring would ever do so."

"Right, so…" Sparx looked around, "why aren't there any dragonflies here?"

"Because they preferred to stay in the swamp, I suppose," Thasos suggested, shrugging his massive shoulders. "I'm afraid my mind does not work like that of a dragonfly. All I know is that some of the dragonflies travelled into this place, encountered us and gave us news of the outside world, before returning to their swamp."

Sparx didn't seem at all satisfied with that answer but didn't pursue it any further. With a soft noise of annoyance the yellow dragonfly turned away from Thasos and hovered back down to Spyro's level. The purple dragon gave him an amused glance, surprised that the dragonfly had taken such offence in the possibility that Flash and Nina may have known of this place all along.

"We'll ask mum and dad about it next time we see them," he promised Sparx, but the dragonfly just shrugged in response.

Thasos turned his eyes away from the younger dragons to look around his village, taking in the sights and the sounds for what was probably the last time. He breathed in deep, committing the scent of this place to memory, and let out a satisfied sigh. Spyro looked up when the old orange dragon spoke and heard the words he wanted to hear.

"I think it's time."

* * *

The dragons gathered at the edge of the lake, gazing with apprehensive eyes at the waterfall that gushed from the rock. But despite the apprehension, Spyro could feel the excited jitters that rippled through the crowd. Thasos stood forward to address the dragons one last time, before they left this place for good.

"Calm yourselves, my dragons," he soothed in his deep voice. "The path we take is through the waterfall cavern, the very same way we came in fifteen years ago. Spyro!"

The purple dragon stepped forward, Cynder at his side, "Sir!"

The orange dragon looked solemnly down on him, "You are our guide. You and Cynder will take the lead through the cavern and out over the ocean to Warfang. Are you up to it?"

"You can count on us!" Spyro replied, with an accompanying grin.

"Good," Thasos turned to the crowd once more. "Follow these two dragons without question. Do not stray from the main group, do you understand? There will be no stopping. We fly straight to the mainland and to Warfang. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Thasos!" The crowd chorused, some more eager than others.

"Then we begin!"

Thasos turned his brown eyes to the purple dragon, "After you, Spyro."

Spyro grinned and, with a final nod of his head, turned on his heel and sprang into the air. Cynder leapt after him, spreading her crimson wings wide and gliding with him up towards the mouth of the cave and the top of the waterfall. Down below, Thasos began to direct the group of dragons after them. Spyro's search party went first, lined up in pairs and followed closely by Flame and Ember. Afterwards came Milos, bringing with him about half of the remaining dragons. Sestos followed shortly after, Thasos at his side, with the remaining dragons following. Lastly, as Thasos had suggested, came Seriphos. It was his duty to be sure that no dragons were left behind or fell behind.

With one last look behind him, to be sure they were all following, Spyro dived into the mouth of the tunnel. Sparx led the way, granting the purple dragon a small amount of yellow light. Cynder flew close behind, unable to fly beside Spyro due to the lack of wing-space in the tunnel. Vaguely, Spyro heard Milos ordering the dragons to fly single file.

The trip through the tunnel didn't seem nearly as long when they were flying, and the constant movement of his wings kept him warm from the cold air and the droplets that fell from the tunnel ceiling. Within minutes, the light began to show at the end of the tunnel, so bright it made Spyro narrow his eyes against its glare. Like bullets, the group of dragons shot one by one out of the darkness and into the light.

Spyro led them over the river, Cynder now at his side, listening with amusement to the gasps of wonder from the dragons behind him. Around the bends in the river he led the dragons, swooping and swerving, the tips of his wings occasionally brushing the water. Milos could be heard once more, urging the dragons on, and further away Sestos could be heard doing the same. After what seemed like only minutes, Spyro shot upwards over the trees and the Dragon Temple came majestically into view.

Gasps of wonder and delight came from the dragons who had spent fifteen years in hiding, and there were identical expressions of awe on the faces of Ember and Flame. Spyro halted, hovering in the air, just above the temple and turned to face the dragons behind him. More than forty faces stared back at him, eager to continue.

"Is everyone here?" the purple dragon called above the wind, searching for Thasos in the crowd.

It was Seriphos who answered, "All present and accounted for, Master Spyro! Shall we continue?"

"_Master_ Spyro?" Spyro wondered quietly to himself, before calling aloud, "Follow me close! The ocean is only a few minutes away and after that we've got a long flight ahead of us. You can spread out once we hit the ocean. Ready? Let's go!"

Turning gracefully in the air, Spyro shot over the Dragon Temple and rocketed towards the horizon, where the glimmering sapphire of the ocean could be seen sparkling under the sun. The dragons flew in a line behind him, Seriphos at the very back. Flame and Ember had passed by the nine dragons of Spyro's search party and were now closer to the purple dragon and Cynder. The pink dragoness gazed back at the dragon temple, somewhat disappointed.

"I would have liked to explore the temple," she sighed.

"Some other time," Flame muttered gruffly, his eyes narrowed against the whip of the wind.

With a last disappointed sigh, Ember turned her eyes away from the Dragon Temple. Instantly her expression brightened.

"Look, look!" she gasped, delighted at the sight of the ocean. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

Neither of them had ever seen such a large expanse of water before and even Flame could not keep the awe from his face. Spyro turned to grin at them, having heard Ember's exclamation.

"That's the ocean. Trust me, it's even bigger than it looks!"

Ember gasped in admiration, not taking her eyes off the sparkling jewel-like water. As they passed out over the water and away from the land, Spyro called out to the rest of the dragons.

"Spread out now! There's no need to fly so close together! We've got a long flight ahead of us, but if we're lucky we should reach Warfang by nightfall!"

"You heard the dragon," Thasos roared, his voice booming through the sky. "Spread out, spread out!"

As the dragons spread out around them, Flame and Ember moved up to Spyro's side. The red dragon kept well away from the purple dragon, but Ember was only too happy to get closer to him, much to Cynder's annoyance. She turned excited blue eyes on Spyro.

"Tell us about Warfang," she begged. "What's it like?"

"Well," Spyro stared ahead at the horizon, "it's a lot bigger than your little village. There are huge buildings, made mostly of stone, and there are streets made from cobblestones, and courtyards full of grass and trees. There's a huge place called the Grand Atrium; that's where the council is supposed to meet. And there's a huge hall as well where dragons meet to have meals together."

He glanced at Ember to see she was gazing at him with awe in her eyes and continued, "The city is surrounded by huge walls and battlements that protect against invasions. They were what saved most of the city from Malefor's army. There aren't so many dragons though, so it's pretty empty. The moles still hang about and sometimes the cheetahs from the Valley of Avalar drop in, but it's kind of lonely without any dragons there. But even so, Warfang is a huge and beautiful place, I'm sure you'll like it."

"And what about the Valley of Avalar," she asked, just as eagerly, "what's that like?"

Laughing, Spyro began to explain the world outside of Warfang, speaking from his own experiences of the many beautiful places of the mainland. Flame didn't say a word, his eyes averted from the chatting dragons as though the very sight of it offended him. Cynder wasn't quite as tense; however, she continued to send Ember aggravated glances, annoyed that she wasn't getting a chance to talk to Spyro.

Behind them, over forty dragons, including those of the original search party, glided silently across the ocean. And as usual Sparx led the way, leading the dragons onwards, over the waves, towards the horizon and the great city of Warfang.

**A/N: Two chapters in one day, why? Because I wanted to get these two rather uninteresting chapters out of the way. Hooray, we're heading back to Warfang now! Oh look, another dragon named after a Greek island (Seriphos)...I'm just going to stop pointing them out. These OCs don't really have much to do with the plot. They were just created to fill in parts. **

**Everyone remembers in A New Beginning when Spyro went to save Ignitus from Cynder's fortress? Well, that's what his weird dream was based on. I really have no idea what Sparx was doing in the storage hut...he seems to like spices. Well I found this chapter and the previous one rather dull, but I hope you enjoyed them anyway. Any reviews would be appreciated. Review twice if you want! ^.^ Thanks for reading!**


	7. Introductions at the Dragon City

**7. Introductions at the Dragon City**

Bathed in the fading evening light that crept through the arched windows, the Earth Guardian Terrador plodded slowly through one of the many hallways in Warfang. He was on the second story of the stone building and could see the battlements and far beyond if he looked out to the west where the great disk of fire was slowly sinking below the horizon. Turning his emerald eyes away from the setting sun and the battlements, Terrador continued on his way, his mind full of thoughts that needed dwelling on.

Where was young Spyro? Had he found any signs of dragon life in his search? Would he return alone or with new dragons beside him? But for the answers to those questions, he would just have to wait.

"Master Terrador," called a voice.

The earth guardian turned to see who hailed him. Hunter picked up his pace for a few strides to catch up to the dragon and the two began to walk together, side by side. The cheetah looked over at the guardian, shielded from the worst of the dying sun's glare by the dragon's large head.

"The city is very quiet, isn't it?" he murmured to the dragon. "What brings you up here, may I ask?"

Terrador turned his gaze on the cheetah. Hunter had returned barely an hour ago with his search party in tow. They had searched for almost three days in the Valley of Avalar and the forests surrounding, but had found no signs of dragon life to be spoken of. It was in disappointment that they returned to Warfang.

"To think," Terrador replied in his deep baritone. "At times a dragon has the need to think on pressing matters. And what of you, Hunter? What brings you up here?"

"The same as you, of course," the cheetah replied, "and to watch the last of the sun's light. It is a magnificent sunset."

The two paused in their slow walk to stare out across the city at the sun setting beyond the battlements. It bathed the sky in molten gold and crimson red, illuminating every cloud and leaving not a drop of sky uncoloured. Terrador nodded his agreement, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Hunter glanced at the dragon out of the corner of his eye, predicting his thoughts and answering them.

"I'm sure young Spyro will deliver," he assured the dragon. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he is among those of your kind and preparing to return. We may have returned with nothing, but that young dragon has a knack for triumphing where others fail. We must have patience."

Terrador remained silent for a long while, gazing at the sun as it sank ever so slowly into darkness. Eventually he broke the silence he had begun, and answered the golden cheetah that stood patiently beside him.

"Even in these peaceful times, there are still troubles that plague our world. The purple dragon is our saviour, and to him we must have faith. I have no doubt that Spyro will return with others at his side."

The earth guardian turned away from the sunset and continued on his walk, Hunter striding silently beside him. But the silence didn't last very long. The two friends froze as the hollow sound of the bell echoed throughout the city, a lone, deep reverberating knoll. Surprised, Terrador turned his head on reflex towards the southern lookout tower. It was obscured from his view by various buildings, however the earth guardian was sure that was where the bell had been struck. Seconds later came the faint yell of a dragon, amplified in the silence.

"Dragons!" the voice called. "Dragons approaching the South Wall!"

Exchanging startled looks, Terrador and Hunter turned to race towards the south wall, hurrying along the hallway back the way they had come. The instant he was in open air, Terrador spread his massive wings and took flight. Below him, the agile Hunter raced the streets between buildings, attempting with some difficulty to keep up with the flying dragon. Again, the lookout dragon repeated himself, louder this time.

"Dragons!" he roared, beating the bell once more. "There are dragons approaching the South Wall!"

Terrador dove for the southern battlements, passing the lookout tower. He landed rather heavily on top of the wall, skidding in his haste, and attempted to dig his claws into the stone to stop from tumbling over the other side. Craning his head skyward, Terrador gazed upon the dark shapes in the sky that were slowly approaching the city.

Hunter joined him moments later, agilely climbing the wall to reach the earth guardian's side. The lookout dragon had stopped hollering, his job done now that he had alerted one of the guardians.

"Friend?" Hunter asked, eying the dark shapes in the sky. "Or foe?"

Terrador never took his eyes off the dark mass of dragons, "I cannot say, Hunter. My eyesight fails me in my old age. Look closer and tell me what you see."

The cheetah rested his paws on the battlements and gazed hard at the approaching dragons, narrowing his eyes. As the last of the sun's light faded it was hard to distinguish them, but Hunter's sharp eyes picked up what Terrador's could not.

"The purple dragon," he breathed, causing the earth guardian to shoot him a hard look.

"Are you sure?"

"There is no mistaking that young dragon," Hunter replied, and pointed with a paw. "Watch as he comes closer."

Terrador gazed closely at the dragon Hunter was pointing to, his eyes strained against the darkness. Then did the green dragon realise what Hunter had seen, that which had convinced him it was indeed the returning purple dragon. Gliding ahead of the dark mass of dragons was a glowing yellow light, so small in the distance it could have been mistaken for a star. Surprised that he hadn't noticed it sooner, Terrador let a smile creep onto his face.

"Sparx," he murmured. "So, young Spyro _has_ returned."

"How many did you send with him?" Hunter asked, attempting to count the dark shapes that followed behind the glowing speck that was Sparx.

"Nine," Terrador replied, "not including himself and Cynder. Any dragon with a single eye could see that there is more returning than what he left with. How many can you count, Hunter?"

The cheetah peered close at the approaching hoard, his eyes darting backwards and forwards between the dark shapes as he attempted in vain to count them. Hunter shook his head slowly.

"I cannot say for sure," he told the earth guardian, "thirty, perhaps, or more."

"He has done well," Terrador replied, satisfied, "the purple dragon never fails to impress."

* * *

It was almost dark by the time Warfang came into view. It appeared on the horizon tinted gold by the sinking sun. Spyro breathed a contented sigh and beat his tired wings faster, glad to have finally returned to the great dragon city. Behind him the tired dragons flew, their heads drooping from the exhaustion of the long flight. Ember and Flame flew alongside him, though neither had spoken a word for a few hours now. Cynder, too, flew in tired silence at his side.

Yawning, Spyro heard the faint tolling of a bell in the distance and couldn't help but smile. The lookout dragon must have spotted them.

"Sounds like they've seen us," he mentioned to Cynder.

She turned tired emerald eyes on him and nodded, but said nothing. Ember yawned and peered at the city through drooping eyes.

"Is that Warfang?" she asked, stifling another yawn.

"That's it," Spyro replied simply, watching Sparx zigzag in front of him.

Flame didn't seem too impressed, "It'd look better if I wasn't so tired. Why couldn't we stop for the night?"

Spyro shrugged, "There was no need to. We made it here by night, so why stop?"

Flame replied with a silent glare and turned his eyes away from the purple dragon moments later, mumbling inaudibly under his breath. At last the sun's feeble light faded from the sky and the dragons were plunged into darkness. Spyro yawned, his eyes focusing sleepily on the south wall of Warfang, which they were slowly approaching. He wasn't quite sure, but there appeared to be two figures, one larger than the other, standing on top of the battlements, waiting.

Sparx darted in front of his face, startling him, and the dragonfly continued his zigzagging pattern through the night sky. Spyro felt his eyes droop as he watched the hypnotizing swaying of the yellow dragonfly.

"Look," Cynder's voice brought him back to reality, although she spoke soft.

She gestured with a paw to the wall and Spyro's attention was again drawn to the dark figures watching them. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Spyro was sure that the stocky figure of the dragon belonged to that of the earth guardian, Terrador.

"Is that Terrador?" Cynder asked, thinking the same. "It looks like he's waiting for us. Who's with him?"

Spyro shrugged and focused instead on the thin figure that stood beside the guardian. Cloaked in darkness, Spyro could see very little of the figure, but its slim build told him one thing.

"It's a cheetah," he said to Cynder. "I wonder who. Prowlus, perhaps?"

Cynder merely shrugged and, as they closed in on the south wall, she and Spyro made their descent. They soared towards the wall, more than forty dragons at their back, following the glowing light of Sparx. Terrador's voice hailed them from within the darkness, confirming that the dark figure of the dragon was indeed he.

"Welcome, young dragons!" the guardian called. "Bring your group down to the courtyard. I will guide you there!"

The guardian took to the air and turned gracefully towards the courtyard near the centre of the city. Spyro followed him gratefully, passing by the lookout tower in which an open fire lantern illuminated the dragon within. The purple dragon led the group of dragons down, over the buildings, and into the courtyard where they were greeted with warm light from surrounding fiery lanterns.

Spyro touched down on the cobblestones harder than he intended and stumbled slightly as he regained his balance. Cynder alighted beside him, more graceful, as Flame and Ember followed suit. Behind them the other dragons landed, relieved to be finally out of the air and on firm ground where they could rest their tired wings.

Terrador stood before them, his green scales tinged orange by the light of the fire from the lanterns around them. He smiled warmly at Spyro and beckoned for him to come closer.

"Welcome back, young dragon," the earth guardian greeted him, "I see you have brought others back with you. I had hoped you would succeed. Come, you must be tired. Introductions can wait until morning."

"Thank you, Terrador," Spyro yawned sleepily, swaying on his feet.

Terrador paused to give Cynder a warm smile before turning to the large group that stood nervously in the courtyard, some half asleep and others glancing around curiously.

"Listen to me, my comrades," Terrador called to the crowd, gathering their attention. "To those who are new, Welcome to Warfang. It is late and I'm sure you are tired. For tonight, the Grand Atrium shall be your sleeping quarters. Tomorrow, however, I assure you that you will all receive your own separate quarters. The city is glad to have you. Now, if you will, follow me to the Atrium. It isn't far."

There were some grumbles within the crowd, but most seemed in favour of the decision. Terrador dismissed the nine members of Spyro's search party and they gratefully staggered off home, leaving Spyro, Cynder and the earth Guardian to deal with the newcomers. Terrador beckoned to the crowd and slowly plodded his way towards the Atrium. Spyro hesitated for a moment, before gesturing to Cynder.

"Come on," he murmured to her. "We'll help Terrador."

Although she was tired, Cynder didn't object. The two teenage dragons hurried after the crowd, Sparx trailing behind, noticing that Ember and Flame were lagging behind. Ember looked as though she were ready to fall asleep where she stood, but Flame was taking in his surroundings with interest as though he had suddenly forgotten his exhaustion. Spyro nodded at them as he and Cynder passed, but Flame only glanced at them and didn't say a word.

Catching up to Terrador, Spyro and Cynder slowed to the larger dragon's pace, their wings drooping with fatigue.

"You should return to your rooms," Terrador advised softly. "You look as though you are ready to drop, young dragons. Go now, I can handle these dragons."

But Spyro refused, insisting on at least walking the new dragons to the Atrium. Cynder sighed and plodded alongside him, wishing she were back in her room and fast asleep. Surprisingly, Sparx appeared wide awake and was flying erratically around Terrador's head. Spyro watched him for a moment until the dragonfly's movement made him dizzy.

At last the Atrium came into view and Terrador stopped to address the crowd. Half asleep, Spyro zoned out and let his tired eyes wander over the dark streets of the city. Cynder nudged him, catching his attention.

"Come on," she urged, "let's go. Terrador can handle them now."

Spyro turned to look at the guardian to see that he was already guiding the newcomers through the large doors of the Atrium. The purple dragon finally agreed and, after calling Sparx to him, followed Cynder back to their rooms. Moments later, after Cynder had left to her own room, Spyro found himself sprawled across all three of the yellow cushions in his room. Sparx zipped backwards and forwards over his head, glowing like a nightlight. The purple dragon groaned and attempted to focus on the image of his surrogate brother.

"Sparx," he sighed, "settle down, would you? I want to sleep."

But the dragonfly continued to zigzag back and forth throughout the room, "Sorry, Spyro old boy! I feel like I've got too much energy!"

He whooped and zoomed across the room again, almost hitting the wall before doubling back and turning circles around Spyro's head.

"Must have been something in those spices!" the dragonfly surmised, zipping past the bookshelf and upsetting the dust that had settled on the shelves.

Finally fed up with the dragonfly, Spyro sat up and breathed a cloud of icy air over him. The particles of ice froze on Sparx's wings and he fluttered to the ground, half-frozen and shivering. Spyro gathered him in his wing and pulled the dragonfly close to his body, defrosting the ice slowly. Sparx didn't say a word and lay shivering, wrapped in the purple dragon's wing, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.

Glad of the silence, Spyro was finally able to close his eyes and, within seconds, lost his consciousness to the land of dreams.

* * *

Mid-morning found two dragons standing on the steps of the Atrium, waiting patiently for three others to approach. Spyro and Cynder had been up at first light despite their tiredness and, after a much needed meal, had headed for the Atrium. They stood together, waiting for the three Guardians to catch up, Sparx hovering between them. Volteer and Cyril had been quite pleased to see Spyro back so soon, and even more so at hearing that their mission had been successful. Now, though, they seemed in no rush to meet the new dragons.

Spyro looked around, impatience catching up with him as he waited for the three older dragons. Warfang looked much the same as it had since he had left a few days ago, though he could see traces where the moles had begun the clean up and rebuilding of the damaged parts of the city. Unknown to either of the two young dragons, a tall figure approached from the side, so silent neither noticed.

"Good to see you back, Spyro."

The purple dragon jumped in shock, almost knocking Cynder over as he leapt sideways into her. Hunter laughed at his reaction and Spyro relaxed once he realised whom it was. The cheetah rested one of his paws on the column beside him.

"I thought Sparx was the jumpy one," he joked, flashing his fangs in a smile.

Spyro grinned, "Guess it's rubbed off on me. I hadn't expected you to be back so soon, Hunter."

Hunter shook his head, disappointment on his face, "Yes, unfortunately our search proved fruitless. We returned not long before you did, young dragon, although I must say you were more successful than I. But you must be exhausted after such a long journey in such a short time."

Cynder shook her head, "Not really. We slept well last night."

"Yes," Spyro agreed, "we're just waiting to show the new dragons around the city. But the guardians are taking their time."

Hunter turned his eyes towards the three guardians, who had stopped to talk amongst each other. The cheetah couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see Volteer's jaw moving so quickly it was almost a blur.

"They are older than we are, Spyro," he said, turning back to the purple dragon, "they tend to do things slower."

"You got that right," Sparx agreed, somewhat rudely.

Spyro ignored the dragonfly and instead addressed Hunter, "Will you stick around?"

"Yes," the cheetah replied after a moment, "I would like to meet these dragons. How many did you return with? I attempted to count last night, but in the dark it is rather hard to see."

"So you were the one we saw on the battlements last night," Spyro muttered, more to himself than to Hunter, before answering. "I think there's about thirty. I didn't count them myself."

Before Hunter could answer the purple dragon, the Guardians finally approached the Atrium steps. All three were looking rather excited, although Sparx was sure that Volteer always looked excited.

"Shall we?" Cyril suggested, gesturing towards the door and gazing at each of the dragons in turn.

"Of course," Terrador replied, moving forward as Sparx muttered an exasperated '_Finally!_'

The earth guardian's eyes fell on Hunter as he realised the presence of the cheetah, which he had not noticed before. Hunter smiled and bobbed his head respectively at the green dragon, his paws hidden beneath his wide, red cloak.

"Ah, Hunter," Terrador said to the cheetah, "good to see you here. Would you do the honours?"

He gestured towards the large oak doors of the atrium and Hunter obliged without argue, bracing himself as he gripped the brass handles of the doors and pushed. They groaned slowly inwards, wood scrapping on stone with a noise not unlike that of a sword being drawn from its sheath, and revealing the darkened hallway within. Light poured in through the open doorway, illuminating the white tiles along the walls and the pale grey stone of the floor. Hunter stood to the side as the guardians approached.

"Thank you, Hunter," Terrador murmured, smiling as he passed the cheetah and stepped into the hallway.

Cyril and Volteer followed close behind, the latter literally vibrating with excitement. Spyro looked up at Hunter, but the cheetah gestured him in with the simple words of "after you, Spyro." Side by side, Cynder and Spyro stepped into the hallway and followed the guardians with Hunter and Sparx bringing up the rear. The doors of the Atrium remained open, granting the windowless hallway morning light.

As the small party stepped into the large main hall of the Atrium, multiple eyes turned to them. It was brighter here than in the hallway, gathering light from the multiple arched windows that were set high in the walls. Spyro looked around the room for familiar faces and saw Flame and Ember sitting at the far side of the room, heads down in conversation. Naxos and Chios weren't far away, the former having raised his head and grinned at Spyro as he'd entered.

Most of the dragons began to get to their feet, and Spyro lost sight of Flame and Ember amongst the rising crowd. Terrador gazed around the room with a pleased look on his face.

"Please," he called, "no need for formalities. You may sit."

A few of the dragons remained standing, but most sat back on their haunches with relieved sighs. Spyro could see Naxos pushing his way to the front, stopping to snap at a red dragon as his paw was trodden on. His attention was diverted by Terrador's voice.

"Now, my guests," the earth guardian called, "if there is anyone here you consider the leader of your clan, would you please step forward?"

There were a few mutterings as heads turned around, searching for the dragon that matched that description. The old orange dragon plodded his way through the ranks, Seriphos not far behind, his brown eyes fixed on Terrador.

"That would be me, I suppose. It's been a while. Terrador, isn't it?" Thasos asked, coming to a stop at the head of his clan.

"By the ancestors," Cyril breathed, "it can't be…!"

But Terrador knew it was, "Thasos. This is an unexpected surprise. And here we all thought you had perished on the night of the raid."

Spyro and Cynder exchanged surprised glances, as it dawned on them that the Guardians and Thasos knew each other. But as usual, it was Sparx who voiced the question.

"Wait a minute," he called, flying between Terrador and Thasos, "you guys know each other? Have I missed something?"

Terrador smiled in amusement, "Yes, Sparx, Thasos and I are acquainted. In fact Thasos was…"

"We know," Spyro cut in suddenly, stepping forwards, "he was Ignitus's rival. He could have become Fire Guardian if Ignitus hadn't. That's how you know him, isn't it?"

Terrador raised his eyebrows and turned his green eyes on Thasos, "You told him this?"

"I did," the orange dragon confirmed, "before I was aware of Spyro's connection to my old friend. I hear he has passed on, old Ignitus."

Terrador nodded his large head solemnly, "I am afraid that is correct. I can only imagine what his expression would have been had he been here today to see you return from the grave."

"From the grave, Terrador?" Thasos chuckled. "Nay, merely from hiding. I admit I had believed you three to have gone to your rests by now. It does my heart good to see the Guardians still live."

"Indeed," Terrador agreed, "and we have Spyro to thank for reuniting us."

Spyro blushed in embarrassment and said nothing, although all eyes had turned to him for a split second. He busied himself with looking for Flame and Ember amongst the crowd, but they appeared hidden amidst the larger dragons. His eyes fell instead on Seriphos, who was staring intently at Terrador with a strange expression on his face. It was though there were many emotions running through his mind, mixing together and becoming confused.

"I see you have quite a group, Thasos," Terrador said to the orange dragon, "Might you introduce them to me?"

"Of course," Thasos said, turning his head, "although, if I'm not mistaken, there's already one here who knows you."

"Oh?" Terrador's eyes widened in curiosity as Thasos stepped aside to reveal the green dragon behind him.

"Master Terrador," Seriphos murmured, his voice oddly strained, and looked as though he could find no more to say.

Shock registered deeply on Terrador's face, even more so than when he had beheld Thasos. Cyril frowned and leant close to Volteer, whispering something that Volteer confirmed with an unsure bob of his head.

"By the ancestors," Terrador said, echoing what Cyril had said moments before, "Seriphos, you have grown."

"Master!" Seriphos exclaimed, suddenly bowing his head so low it almost grazed the ground, bending his knees into a swift bow.

Terrador chuckled, "Raise your head, young dragon, you have no need to be so formal around me. I see you are no longer the young adolescent I once knew, but to me you still remain a young dragon. If it wasn't for your eyes I may not have recognised you. You have grown into a fine dragon, Seriphos."

Shaking, Seriphos raised himself from his bow and hesitantly looked Terrador in the eye, "Thank you, Master Terrador. I am honoured by your praise. It is good, no, excellent to see you again. I had feared you dead!"

"And I you, young dragon, and I you."

Spyro cast Cynder a confused look but she merely shrugged. Volteer supplied the answer, leaning close to Spyro's head and whispering.

"Terrador's old pupil! I hear he was quite the handful!"

Terrador must have heard, for he turned his eyes on the electricity guardian and said aloud, "Indeed, Volteer, not unlike you when you were young. But Seriphos, it appears, has grown into a much finer dragon that one would expect having known his younger self."

Seriphos shifted in embarrassment but said nothing. Spyro looked up at the earth guardian questionably and Terrador, guessing the question, provided the explanation.

"Whilst I was undergoing training to become the Earth Guardian," Terrador began, "it was suggested by my master that I take on my own pupil. I was about as old as Seriphos is now, at that time. It was suggested that I train a young dragon to become captain of the guard, considering my proficiency at warfare tactics and the like. When I met Seriphos he was a young dragon, not much older than you are now, perhaps even younger. He was, as Volteer said, quite a handful. But I disciplined him as much as he disciplined me. He was a headstrong young earth dragon, strong and smart, the perfect candidate for a captain."

"I trained him for about three years, until my guardian training was finished. After that we parted, although it was hard to leave my young pupil. We had formed quite a bond after all. But I left him with an adept new master, whom I trusted to complete his training. Indeed, Seriphos, whatever happened to your master?"

Heads turned to Seriphos, who had been listening with some embarrassment to Terrador's tale. His expression became sombre and he let out a deep sigh.

"My master," he murmured, "we believe was lost that night, during the raid. Mistress Selador, although she always preferred I call her master, was indeed a wonderful teacher. Her loss is…not something I could explain with words. She disappeared that night, in the middle of chaos, and we never saw her again. I have no doubt that she was killed, although she was the best warrior I knew. With her gone, it does me good to see that _you_,at least, are still living."

"I am sorry to hear that," Terrador sighed, "Selador was as good a dragoness as I had ever known. She will be deeply missed."

A few moments of silence passed between the dragons, until Terrador broke it once again.

"It is good to see the both of you once again," Terrador said to Seriphos and Thasos, "but I think it's time to greet the rest of your group. I'm sure we're all sick of waiting here in this bland old hall. So if you could all just bear with me for a few moments, allow me to introduce myself and the other guardians and formerly welcome you to the city of Warfang."

"My name is Terrador, the Earth Guardian," he called, his voice strong and loud. "Behind me are Cyril, Guardian of Ice, and Volteer, Electricity Guardian. The Fire Guardian, as I am sure you have all heard, was a dragon named Ignitus. He is no longer among us, may the ancestors look after him. This is the great city of Warfang, the centre of the dragon world and home to dragons from all across the land. Welcome, all of you, to the great dragon city; your new home."

A chorus of cheers responded to Terrador's little speech, and Thasos smiled warmly at the guardians.

"Thank you for your hospitality. It is an honour to finally set foot in the mighty city of Warfang. Come forward everyone, introduce yourselves to the guardians."

There were no arguments as every dragon hurried forwards to greet the three guardians. Spyro noticed Naxos arguing with that same red dragon and couldn't suppress a grin when the yellow dragon smacked his opponent upside the head with his tailblade. Just as the red dragon was about to retaliate, Chios pushed her way between them and led Naxos away, rolling her eyes. Spyro supposed this happened a lot.

The red dragon turned away, annoyed, and came face to face with Flame, who was standing behind him. Flame was smaller than this red dragon, but he didn't seem at all intimidated. Spyro strained to hear what he was saying.

"…Beaten by Naxos, Delos?" Flame was smirking. "And I thought you could sink no lower…"

"Leave him be, Flame," Ember called, exasperated, as she came up behind the two red dragons.

The older red dragon, Delos, snarled half-heartedly at Flame but didn't make any move towards him. Terrador's voice boomed over the crowd as Delos stepped away from the two young dragons.

"Thasos, could you do a head count?" The earth guardian called.

"Of course!" Thasos called back. "Hold still everyone."

But Flame and Ember didn't seem to have heard that order. They slunk their way through the crowd to Spyro's side, stopping beside him as Thasos began to count. Flame couldn't help but glare at the purple dragon, noticing he had been watching the quarrel with Delos.

"What were you looking at?" he growled, softly so that no one else but Spyro heard.

"Nothing," replied Spyro carefully, "I was just wondering who that other dragon was. A friend of yours?"

"Friend?" Flame snorted at the very idea, "Hardly. That was Delos. He's an idiot and he likes picking fights. Of course, he never beats me."

"Don't be cocky, Flame," Ember teased, turned her blue eyes on Spyro. "Delos and Flame are always at each other's throats. Although, I don't think he and Naxos are exactly friends either."

Spyro grinned back at her as Cynder slunk her way over to his side. She refrained from giving the pink dragoness a reproachful look and instead settled with planting herself between them. Flame huffed noisily, expelling smoke from his nostrils.

"Thirty-two!" Thasos exclaimed suddenly. "But wait…"

The orange dragon frowned in confusion and turned his head as though looking for something. When his eyes fell on Flame and Ember, his expression brightened.

"Ah, there you are!" Thasos exclaimed, "That makes thirty-four, Terrador!"

But the earth guardian didn't seem to have heard the orange dragon. His eyes were fixed on the two young dragons standing beside Spyro and Cynder. They couldn't be any older than the famous purple dragon and his black dragoness, but Terrador had thought that all the eggs from the temple had been smashed the night of the raid.

The young red dragon turned to look at Terrador, sensing the green dragon's eyes on him, and scowled as though challenging him. The pink dragoness noticed the glare and followed his gaze to the earth guardian, wondering why her friend was glaring at the older dragon.

"Spyro," Terrador murmured, his voice catching in his throat, "why…why didn't you tell me? You've brought young dragons back…"

Cyril and Volteer craned their heads over, their faces bearing identical expressions of bemused shock, and muttering words such as 'impossible!' and 'unbelievable!'.

"Oh," Spyro replied, turning to look at Flame and Ember, "I guess I forgot."

"But, all the eggs were supposed to have been destroyed!" Cyril called, his voice carrying shrilly in the silence. "How can this be?"

"There'll be time for answers later," Terrador interrupted, before anyone could answer the Ice Guardian's question, "First, tell us your names, young dragons."

Every head turned to the red and pink dragons, making the both of them slightly uncomfortable. Ember stepped forwards carefully, pretending not to notice that all eyes were on her.

"Ember, sir," she murmured shyly, bowing her head and quickly stepping back.

Flame mimicked her with more confidence. He stepped forwards strongly and looked Terrador dead in the eye, an unspoken challenge glimmering in his ferocious golden eyes. Instantly Terrador knew that this one was going to be a handful.

"Flame," the young red dragon called in the silence, his voice strong and without the quiver that Ember's voice had carried, "my name is Flame!"

Quite strongly, Terrador was reminded of the headstrong Ignitus as he had once been as a young dragon. One look at Flame's flashing, golden eyes, and Terrador knew: he and the other guardians were in for a lot of trouble.

**A/N: School + Writers block + Laziness/Procrastination = slow updating. A bit of a hard chapter to write. I wanted it to be more interesting, but my imagination stopped working. Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! ^.^**


	8. Training

**8. Training**

Spyro yawned sleepily, shuffling his wings as the midday sun warmed his violet scales. He sat atop the balcony of his room, gazing down at the courtyard below where a rather interesting scene was playing out. The courtyard was littered with the remains of straw dummies, some torn to pieces and others charred to a crisp. In the middle of the battleground of training puppets, stood a young red dragon.

Flame roared as the animated dummies went on the attack once more, and Spyro watched as the puppets were turned to ash by a swift wave of fire. Terrador stood on the sidelines with Thasos, watching, nodding his head in approval. Ember stood close beside him, anxiously watching her friend's performance.

Another roar tore itself from Flame's throat as he spun swiftly, slicing clean through another dummy with his sharp arrow-shaped tailblade. Spyro yawned again and let his head drop onto his paws, watching with mild interest.

Flame's meeting with the guardians had been somewhat disastrous, and he hadn't made a particularly good first impression. Spyro remembered it quite clearly.

* * *

"Flame!" the young red dragon called, glaring Terrador down. "My name is Flame!"

Terrador wasn't very keen on the challenging look in the young dragon's eye. In a way it reminded him of Ignitus. The Earth Guardian had surmised long ago that all fire dragons suffered from that curse of hotheadedness. It appeared that this young Flame was no different.

"So, Flame is it?" Terrador asked slowly, keeping a wary eye on the red dragon. "You have the makings of a fine dragon…when you grow up, that is."

That must have struck a nerve, because Flame's eyes suddenly flashed with anger and he roared, "What the hell is that supposed to mean!"

Thasos looked shocked at Flame's outburst, but in reality he had expected no less from his headstrong pupil, "Flame, show some respect!"

"Respect?" Flame questioned, a sneer forming on his lips. "To these old geezers?"

The crowd of dragons in the Atrium let out a collective gasp, appalled by Flame's deliberate disrespect to the guardians. Anger boiled in Spyro's blood and he was struck by the sudden urge to slap some sense into the red dragon. How dare he come here and insult the guardians? Cyril glared coldly down at Flame, frosty clouds rising from his nostrils.

"This one needs a lesson in manners, I believe," the Ice Guardian snorted, narrowing his eyes.

Flame returned the frosty glare with his own heated gaze, not showing any intimidation despite his small stature in comparison to the guardians. He hated to see them standing there in their own glory, demanding respect from dragons they didn't know. Just what made them so great anyway, Flame wondered, his anger boiling. They were just like that idiot purple dragon, thinking they were so much better than everyone else.

"Why should I show respect to you, anyway?" the red dragon roared. "What makes you so great, huh? You're just a bunch of old geezers who think you're above everyone else! I'm not going to lay down and bow to you!"

Spyro felt a snarl well up in his throat and would have launched himself at Flame, had it not been for Cynder. Noticing his growing irritation, the black dragon planted herself between him and Flame, curling her tail around his left forepaw and shaking her head. The purple dragon trembled with rage towards the red dragon but, with Cynder in front of him, he made no move to attack. Ember watched her friend with a horrified look on her face, appalled by his words.

"I am not asking you to bow to us," Terrador boomed, his voice growing louder but remaining steady. "And we do not consider anyone below us! I suggest, young dragon, that you cool off your head!"

Flame had heard those words from Thasos many times over, but hearing it now from this so-called guardian only succeeded in feeding his anger. His scales almost stood on end as his tail vibrated with anger.

"Don't tell me to cool off, you senile, old dragon!" Flame roared, his voice mounting a few octaves in his anger and smoke gushing from his nostrils.

"A feisty one isn't he?" Hunter mumbled to the nearest dragon, which happened to be Volteer, but the Electricity Guardian was too focused on Cyril's growing anger to pay the cheetah any attention.

Terrador's temper flared to breaking point, but his extensive training allowed him to keep calm. Cyril on the other hand, was not nearly as composed. Ignoring Volteer's pleas to calm down, the Ice Dragon stalked forwards towards the fuming Flame.

"You ungrateful, foolish dragon!" Cyril roared, his breath so cold it almost turned to icicles on his muzzle. "How dare you say such insolent things to the very dragons who have so generously allowed you to stay in this city! Your very behaviour is appalling! If you keep up this act, I will have no choice but to escort you out of this city myself! Why, if you were my son I—!"

"That's enough, Cyril!" Terrador interrupted angrily. "Step back! You are not helping!"

The Ice Guardian turned stunned eyes on his fellow guardian, surprised at the anger with which Terrador had addressed him. He mumbled a soft apology before stepping back behind Terrador and leaving him to deal with Flame. The red dragon was glaring at them with such hate he could have burnt holes in their scales with his eyes alone. Thick black smoke was pouring from between his clenched teeth. Terrador looked solemnly down on him, his expression calm.

"Calm yourself, young dragon," the Earth Dragon kept his voice steady, "there is no reason for this animosity."

But Flame seemed beyond reasoning. Ignoring the mutterings of his own clan behind him, and the furious glares that Spyro was sending him, Flame glowered at the three guardians.

"If that's the way I'm going to be treated," he snarled, speaking to Terrador but glaring at Cyril, "then maybe I don't wanna stay in your damn city! I'd rather die than have to bow down to senile old dragons like you!"

The red dragon looked as though he was about to continue his rant, until an angry shriek reached his ears.

"Flame! Stop it right now!"

Startled, Flame turned towards the speaker to find Ember staring straight at him, quivering with anger, her blue eyes swimming with tears. She stepped forwards slowly, passing Cynder, who was holding Spyro back, and approached her red friend.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" she yelled, her voice catching. "You're _always _like this! Can't you just stop being such a hothead for once? You aren't gaining _anything_ from being so disrespectful! So just stop it! You got that, Flame? Just _stop_ it!"

Flame shrank back from her outburst, surprised at the intensity with which she had yelled. Tears spilled onto her pale pink cheeks as she glared at him, her shoulders trembling. Complete silence had fallen in the atrium, as though Ember's words had put them all to shame. Flame stared at her for another moment, until he could no longer hold her gaze, and turned his face away in shame.

"Alright…" he murmured after a while, staring at the ground. "I'll stop. I'm sorry…"

Ember sniffled and furiously scrubbed at her eyes with a paw, attempting to wipe away the tears that were still flowing. Flame cringed as she sniffled, realising that he was the reason for her tears. Spyro had calmed down, allowing Cynder to release him, and Sparx timidly poked his head out from behind the purple dragon's horn.

"You are so stubborn…" Ember sniffled, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," Flame repeated, still not able to raise his eyes to look at her.

Cyril sighed as he beheld Ember's tears and murmured softly to Terrador, "Perhaps I was too harsh…"

The Earth Dragon grunted, but whether it was from agreement or not, Cyril didn't know. The green dragon stepped forwards slowly towards the two young dragons, as every eye settled on the sobbing pink dragoness. Ember raised her head to gaze up at the Earth Guardian, blinking away the last of her tears.

"I-I'm sorry…about him," she mumbled. "He's always so…"

Terrador shook his head, "Do not apologize, young dragoness. We have you to thank for talking sense into the both of us."

"Flame," Terrador switched his attention to the red dragon, "forgive me if I appeared pretentious, and Cyril, too. Even we guardians can lose our heads to anger and to pride. You remind me of the old fire guardian, Ignitus. He was much like you when he was young."

Flame grunted, but said nothing, keeping his eyes averted from both Ember and Terrador. The pink dragoness nudged him.

"You should apologize," she coaxed.

Flame scowled at the ground and said nothing, suddenly feeling very small and foolish. Ember sighed and shrugged, but Terrador merely gave a wry smile.

"He will in time, young Ember. Don't rush him," The green dragon predicted and thought he heard Flame snort in disagreement.

Thasos shook his head slowly, "Do forgive him, Terrador. He's far too headstrong for his own good."

"A stubborn fighter indeed," the Earth Guardian murmured, an idea springing in his mind. "Thasos, I don't suppose you'd mind if I tested his skills? I believe he would make a fine warrior. What do you say?"

"Well…" Thasos hesitated and glanced at the young red dragon, "Flame?"

Flame thought over it for a moment, still staring at the floor. Eventually he raised his head and at last looked Terrador in the eye. His golden eyes flashed with that same defiance that had convinced Terrador that this was a dragon who would never give in.

"Alright," Flame decided, "I'll do your test."

"Excellent!" Volteer proclaimed from behind Terrador, but the Earth Guardian cut in before he could say anything else.

"At midday then, young Flame," he instructed, "meet me at the western courtyard. You are welcome to attend, Thasos. And you too, young Ember, if you so desire."

The pink dragoness nodded quickly, both curious and excited by the prospect. Terrador smiled and turned his attention back to Thasos.

"Now then, about living quarters…"

* * *

And so, at midday, Flame, Ember, Thasos and Terrador had gathered at the western courtyard, which just so happened to be just below Spyro's own room. That was where the purple dragon was now, sunbaking on his balcony as he watched the proceedings below him. Sparx had been hovering over his head, flittering backwards and forwards restlessly, bored. He was the first to see Cynder approach and alerted Spyro to that fact.

"Hey, Spyro, she-dragon incoming."

"Huh?" Spyro mumbled, not bothering to raise his head off his paws, only half listening to what Sparx had said.

Cynder's voice brought him back to reality, "Still sleeping, Spyro? You've gotten lazy."

The purple dragon's head jerked up and he turned, flustered, to see Cynder leaning over him with a playful grin on her face. His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and he scrambled as quickly as he could to his feet, almost stumbling over his own tail in the process. He noticed with some confusion that his heart had suddenly started to beat a lot faster.

"N-no, I was just…sunbaking! I wasn't being lazy, honest!" Spyro insisted, flustered and stuttering.

Cynder giggled, "Relax, Spyro, I was only teasing."

The black dragoness turned to gaze down at the courtyard below, "Were you watching them?"

Spyro paused, mulling over the answer at he gazed down on the courtyard. Had he been watching them? He'd been thinking mostly, thinking about a certain black dragoness who was currently standing beside him. But of course, he wouldn't tell her that. Instead he settled on saying 'yeah' and left it at that.

Cynder nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the red dragon below as he fought the attacking animated puppets, "He's doing well, isn't he? I suppose he isn't cocky without reason."

"Yeah," Spyro agreed, attempting to tear his thoughts away from the black dragoness beside him. "I noticed how strong he was when I fought him back in the forest…he'd make a good guardian if he wasn't so headstrong."

"Didn't Thasos say he'd been training Flame to become a guardian?" Cynder questioned, the orange dragon's words suddenly coming back to her.

But Spyro merely shrugged and said nothing, his eyes fixed on the scene below but his thoughts entirely elsewhere. There was something he wanted to say to the black dragoness and something he wanted to ask her. But somehow, the words always seemed to stick in his throat. He wanted her to realise just how much he cared about her, of the feeling that had been growing within him since he'd saved her, more than three years ago, from Malefor's grasp.

But, the problem was, Spyro had no idea how to say such a thing to her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to see she was still gazing down at the courtyard. What would she think, he wondered, if he told her such a thing?

"Spyro," her voice, soft and unsure, jerked him out of his reverie.

The purple dragon raised his eyes to hers, "What is it?"

At first she didn't answer, her eyes fixed on something in the middle distance and full of an emotion that could only be interpreted as sadness. Worried, Spyro edged closer to her.

"Cynder?" he asked carefully.

At last she spoke, her voice soft and heavy with something akin to regret, "What would have happened if…if Thasos had chosen _my _egg instead of Ember's…or Flame's? Do you think I could have…avoided Malefor? I could have lived a normal life, away from the horrible corrupting darkness, away from those horrid apes, away from…_him_."

The pain in her voice cut Spyro to the core and he was struck by the sudden urge to hold her, to wrap his wings around her and comfort her. But he refrained from doing so and instead settled with curling his tail around hers.

"Cynder," he insisted, "look at me."

Hesitantly, Cynder raised her emerald eyes to meet Spyro's and he saw they were filled with a kind of painful longing. He gave her a reassuring smile and noticed with pleasure that she didn't try to pull her tail away from his.

"Maybe you're right," he said, "maybe if Thasos had taken your egg and raised you in hiding, you would've escaped the horrible torture that Malefor put you through. But then, Cynder, you would've been just like Flame and Ember. You would've been entirely ignorant to the rest of the world, to all of the dragons outside who fought with all their might to protect this world."

"And, Cynder, if Malefor had never taken your egg…we would have never met like we did. We would never have journeyed together, fought side by side to protect each other and the world. I could have been standing here right now with an entirely different dragoness if Malefor hadn't taken your egg. I know you have suffered at Malefor's hands and you wish that you had never had to experience such things. But that was the way things happened and, Cynder… for my part, I wouldn't change it for the world. I'm glad I was able to share my life, and my destiny, with you."

"Spyro…" Cynder's emerald eyes gazed into his, wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

She had never expected him to say such a thing, and it warmed her to the very soul. Cynder knew her feelings for the purple dragon, however it pained her not to know how he felt towards her. If only she could work up the courage to tell him those three words that she had once whispered to him not so long ago. If only he had heard her, and if only he would tell her just how _he _felt. But to hear him say that he was glad to share his destiny with her…that was good enough. For now, at least.

Without warning, Cynder had flung herself on Spyro, wrapping her paws around his neck in a grateful hug. Spyro jerked in surprise, the blood rushing to his cheeks, almost falling over backwards from the force of the hug. After a shocked moment, he returned the hug and wrapped his wings around her shoulders, nuzzling her neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion, her tail still curled around his.

Spyro felt his heart flutter and smiled, glad she couldn't see him blushing, "Any time, Cynder."

They would have stayed like that for a while, had it not been for Sparx. The dragonfly had been hovering beside them unnoticed for a while, and had payed them no attention until Cynder had flung herself on Spyro. He made an odd noise caught somewhere between amusement and disgust, causing the two dragons to jump apart sooner than intended.

Looking very much embarrassed, Cynder and Spyro both turned to glare at the offender. Sparx instantly covered his mouth, trying to look apologetic although he was actually smirking behind his hands. Cynder rolled her eyes and turned back to Spyro, but the moment had already been broken and the purple dragon was averting his eyes bashfully away from her.

A thought suddenly struck the purple dragon and he turned his gaze to Cynder once again.

"Hey, Cynder, what did you do with those anklets I gave you?" he asked, having suddenly remembered the jewellery he'd bestowed upon her just the day before.

"Hmm?" Cynder wondered, before suddenly remembering. "Oh, I gave them to one of the moles. He said he'd polish them up for me and return them by evening."

"Oh," Spyro looked as though he'd wanted to polish them himself, but he said nothing and Cynder didn't notice at all.

The black dragoness had turned her attention back to the dragons down in the courtyard. To her surprise it was not Flame in the centre of the ring of dummies, but rather the pink dragoness Ember. She was crouched low to the ground, her tail swishing in anticipation as she waited for the puppets to attack.

"Look," Cynder pointed out, catching Spyro's attention, "Ember's fighting."

"Oh?" Spyro gazed down at the courtyard, watching as the dummies suddenly leapt for the pink dragoness. "So she is."

* * *

A roar tore itself from deep within Flame's throat as he propelled himself forward, claws outstretched, into the attacking puppet. His sharp talons tore the dummy to shreds before it even hit the ground and he landed amidst a shower of straw and scraps of fabric. Two more of the puppets leapt for him only to be turned to ash as Flame breathed a wave of scorching, blinding fire. Grinning, the red dragon watched as the ash floated gently to the ground, pleased with his victory. However, it wasn't quite over yet.

Behind him another puppet was sneaking up on him, ready to spring at any moment. Flame roared in shock as the straw dummy sprung its surprise attack, landing on his back and wrapping its arms around his neck. Angrily Flame spun a full circle, attempting to snap at the puppet on his back, but failed at dislodging it. Instead he reared up on his hind legs, flapping his wings, and threw his head back. The puppet scrambled to stay on, until Flame's tail swung up to curl around its leg.

Flame threw the dummy in a wide arc and spun around to fire a burning bullet of flame at it before it could hit the ground. His firebomb ate straight through the centre of the puppet, burning it from the inside out as it landed crumpled on the ground.

Breathing heavily, Flame glared at the puppet's corpse until it disappeared with a flash of light. His fight wasn't over yet, though.

"Again!" roared Terrador from the sidelines, before Flame could even catch his breath.

The red dragon gave a growl of annoyance as another five puppets appeared to spring up out of the ground. They proceeded to attack him but, although he was out of breath, Flame was ready for them. They approached from all sides, ready to ambush the young dragon like a real troop of enemies would do.

Flame lurched forwards at the two in front of him, catching one in the midriff with his golden horns and tossing it sideways into the other. The two puppets were bowled over onto the hard cobblestones, but staggered upright just as swiftly as though no harm had come to them. Before they could continue their attack, however, a wave of flame washed over them and they were turned to ash in seconds.

Conscious of the puppets approaching from behind, Flame leapt into the air and turned an awkward somersault that left him facing the opposite direction. He dove from the air, breathing fire down on one of the puppets and grabbing the other in his claws. There was only one puppet left on the ground now and Flame hurled the one in his claws right at it with as much force as he could muster.

The two puppets bounced and skid across the ground before coming to a stop. One remained quite still, its head having been half torn off by Flame's claws, but the other began to stagger to its feet.

Before the puppet could rise, however, Flame had plummeted down towards it, slamming feet first into it and flattening it to the ground. The force with which he hit the puppet instantly crushed it against the hard cobblestones and sent a painful jarring sensation through Flame's forelegs. He stumbled and quickly regained his balance, rolling his shoulders as he looked around for any more of the assailing puppets. Lucky for him, though, there were none to be seen. Panting heavily, Flame grinned in triumph and looked up at his watchers for approval.

Terrador nodded his head approvingly, "Impressive, young dragon, most impressive. You have trained him well, Thasos."

"Thank you, Terrador," the orange dragon replied, a wry smile on his muzzle. "He's got natural talent when it comes to this sort of thing. Well done, Flame, that was an impressive effort."

Flame grinned cockily, a glint in his eye, "Hah. That was nothing."

Terrador looked down on him sternly, "Don't get too confident, young Flame. You may be a natural, but it takes more than skill to become a good warrior. Your technique could still use some work. You let your guard down far too often. I want to see you every second day for training and don't think that it's going to be easy. Are you prepared for that?"

Flame glowered at him, annoyed at the way in which Terrador had put a dampen on his ego, "Fine. Teach me what you know, then, old one."

"Not today, Flame," Terrador shook his head, "you've done enough. I think…yes, I think it might be your friend's turn."

"What?" Flame looked startled and quickly turned his gaze to the pink dragoness beside Thasos. "Ember?"

"Of course," Terrador confirmed, turning his head towards Ember, who was looking equally as shocked. "What do you say, Ember?"

"M-Me?" She stuttered, shocked, "I…I don't know…"

But Terrador insisted, "Come now, young dragoness, you need to learn to defend yourself too. Step forward, step forward. Show us what you can do."

Ember hesitated for a moment and exchanged an anxious glance with Flame. Steeling her nerves, she attempted to look serious and nodded to Terrador.

"Alright, I'll try."

"That's a good girl," Thasos beamed, smiling at the young dragoness. "Good luck now."

After a reassuring nod from Terrador, Ember made her way into the centre of the ring in which Flame had been fighting. Flame passed her as he made his way to Thasos's side, whispering 'good luck' in her ear. She smiled at him, albeit nervously, and moved to stand in the ring of cobblestones. Terrador waited until Flame was by Thasos's side before summoning the puppets.

"Alright now, Ember," he called first, "just do your best. Here we go."

Ember almost jumped in shock as the first puppet sprung up out of the ground in front of her. Terrador had only started with one, allowing her to focus her attacks on the one dummy instead of worrying about any more. The pink dragoness glared at the puppet as it ran at her and attempted to stop her bones from rattling nervously. Before it was upon her she let loose a concentrated stream of fire that knocked the puppet back like a jet of water.

It let out a high-pitched squeal, much to her surprise, before crumbling to the ground, a scorched hole straight through its midriff. Surprised at her victory, Ember grinned dazzlingly at Terrador and he nodded his approval.

"Good, good," he murmured. "Now try another, this time without using your fire breath. Here we go."

Ember nodded nervously and flinched as another puppet sprung up in front of her. It ran for her, swinging its straw-filled arms, and she readied herself to attack. Before it could hit her, Ember lurched forwards and grabbed one of its arms in her jaws, throwing it in a wide arc over her head. It landed sprawled on the ground behind her and she leapt on it before it could get up, tearing through it with her claws. It disappeared with a flash of light and the pink dragoness turned triumphantly back around to face Terrador.

Flame grinned at her and Thasos was looking very pleased, but Terrador merely nodded solemnly.

"Very good," the Earth Guardian praised, "but now let's see how you fair against more than one. Are you ready?"

Ember gave a hesitant nod, "Yes. I think I'm ready."

"Very good. Now."

Instantly, three identical puppets popped up from the ground and stood facing Ember. She quivered with both fear and excitement, ready for them to attack. Flame watched nervously, his tail swishing anxiously and his muscles tensed unconsciously for action. The three puppets rushed Ember at the same time and she charged the middle one, catching it on her horns just as Flame had done. It was sent flying backwards and lay limp on the ground for a moment, before jumping up again.

Ember spun a half circle, her tail smashing into one of the other puppets and sending it bouncing across the ground. The third puppet leapt for her head, swiping its fabricated arms like whirlwinds, but was met by Ember's fire breath. It crumpled to the ground, half of its body burned away by the dragoness's flame.

The remaining two puppets attacked from either side and Ember spun to face the one on her left. She clawed at it, tearing a long gash down its body from which straw began to spill out. Suddenly, the other puppet attacked from behind, leaping over her swishing tail and grabbing her around the neck. She screamed as it pulled her sideways and lost her balance on the cobblestones, landing heavily on her side. The two dummies leapt for her prone body, but were stopped as something red crashed into them.

"Ember!" Flame had roared when he saw her fall, and dodged around Terrador to run in and help her.

He crashed into the two puppets before they could reach her, tearing one to shreds with his claws and tossing the other one high into the air. It crashed down not far from him and he finished it off with a scorching wave of flame. His chest heaving from the short fight, Flame quickly turned around to help Ember. She was just staggering to her feet, her head down in shame and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Flame hurried to her side, but Terrador stopped him in his tracks.

"That will do, Flame," the Earth Guardian called, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "I will ask you not to do that again."

Flame spun around to glare daggers at Terrador, "Why not? Did you want me to sit down and watch while she was hurt?"

Terrador glared at the young red dragon, "These are mock battles, Flame; simulations of what could happen in a real fight. There is no real danger to either of you. If things get out of hand, I can easily dismiss these puppets. So I ask you again not to interfere. Ember needs to do this herself."

"Fine," Flame growled, annoyed, "but if anything goes wrong…"

"Nothing will go wrong, Flame," Thasos called, agreeing with Terrador. "This is a highly controlled situation. Are you okay to try again, Ember?"

Slightly shaken, but still ready to go, Ember nodded, "Yes. Sorry about that. Thank you, Flame, but…I'll try it myself this time."

Flame hesitated and looked her over, making sure she was unhurt, before giving a reluctant nod.

"Alright," he sighed, "good luck. I'll try not to interfere this time."

"I'll make sure you don't have to," she called, grinning, as he retreated out of the ring.

Terrador waited for a moment, allowing Ember to catch her breath and calm her nerves. She gave an affirmative nod when she was ready.

"Alright. Steady this time," Terrador called, "Keep an eye on your surroundings. Here we go now."

This time, when the dummies sprang up from the ground in front of her, Ember was ready. There were three of them, just like last time, and she was sure she could get them all. Taking two on at a time, Ember destroyed one with her fire breath and left it smoking on the ground as she sliced her tailblade through the midriff of the other. It staggered backwards, straw tumbling from a deep gash in its chest, and she lurched forwards horns first. The third puppet had been coming up from behind the second, and was bowled over as Ember tossed one puppet into the other.

The one that she had wounded with her tailblade didn't rise again and she leapt over it to tackle the one behind that had been starting to rise. Flame jerked, startled, as Ember and the puppet rolled over the cobblestones. Thasos planted one of his thick forelegs in front of the red dragon, stopping him from interfering again.

Ember snarled, snapping at the puppet as it attempted to pin her down, and kicked it hard with her hind legs. It was thrown off her and she scrambled upright to leap into the air, meeting it with a stream of fire as it fell back towards her. She landed amongst a shower of ash, grinning and breathing heavily from the exertion, triumphant.

Flame returned her grin, striving to keep the relief he felt out of his expression with surprising success. Terrador nodded his approval as Thasos gazed proudly at her.

"Well done, Ember," the Earth Guardian praised, "you have plenty of room for improvement, but for a first try that was excellent. What do you say, Thasos?"

The orange dragon nodded quickly, "Indeed, indeed, had I known such talent existed in her, I would have trained her, too."

Ember blushed at the comment and looked to Flame for praise. The exhilaration of the battle, although only training, had left her feeling confident and also somewhat surprised that she'd had this ability all along. Never had she though that she'd have to fight for herself, not in the paradise of that hidden place once called home. But now she realised that even if she were confronted with the dangers of the outside world, she wouldn't be helpless.

"Uh…great…great job there, Ember," Flame praised awkwardly, shuffling his feet in embarrassment as he sidled over to her.

Ember beamed at him, about to respond, when the beating sound of wings reached her ears. She turned to see the purple dragon land behind her, Cynder at his tail and Sparx hovering overhead. Flame shot an unnoticed glare at him, sorely tempted to tell him to buzz off and mind his own business. But the purple dragon had his gaze focused on Ember.

"That was impressive, Ember," Spyro praised, flashing her a grin, wandering closer to her. "If that was your first time fighting, I have to say you've got some natural ability there."

Ember felt the blood rush to her cheeks, turning her scales a vibrant rosy red, embarrassed by his praise. To have him, the _purple dragon_, praise her for her abilities was both unexpected and very pleasing. She glanced shyly at him from beneath her lashes, wishing she wouldn't blush so much.

"Thank you, Spyro. Your praise…means a lot," she murmured, smiling coyly.

Somewhere in Flame's head a cord snapped and he felt anger fill him like the rising magma of a ready-to-blow volcano. There was no attempt to restrain this anger; it overtook him before any other thought or emotion could surface.

"What?" He growled, taking a menacing step forward. "So my praise _doesn't _mean as much as _his_?"

Ember stared at him, shocked, "I…I didn't…"

"Save it," the red dragon snarled, causing her to shrink back in fear and hurt. "I get it. Because I'm no hero, that makes this…this…_freak _better than me?"

"Hey!" Spyro stood forward suddenly, placing himself between Flame and Ember, glaring angrily at the red dragon. "She never said anything like that! Cool it off!"

Flame's anger snapped. Thasos always told him to cool it, Naxos told him to cool it, even that pretentious idiot Terrador told him to cool his head off, but he wasn't about to hear it from this idiot, conceited, purple freak of a dragon.

"Don't you _dare _say that to me!"

Spyro didn't have a chance to react before Flame had leapt upon him, teeth and claws outstretched for the kill. Ember shrieked as the two male dragons rolled over the ground, biting and clawing at each other, snarling like feral animals. Sparx squealed in fear and dove behind Cynder, but the black dragoness ran forwards in an attempt to split them up. Flame's tail lashed out, almost striking her, and she stumbled backwards to avoid it, screeching at the two of them to stop.

"Stop it! Stop it right now!" The black dragoness begged, worry and anger clearly evident in her voice.

"Please, stop this!" Ember joined in, hurrying to Cynder's side. "Stop this before someone is hurt!"

But the males payed them no attention. Spyro snarled as Flame's claws dug deep into the skin at the base of his neck, drawing blood from between the scales. He latched his own forepaws around the red dragon's head, tearing scratches between his horns. Over they rolled on the cobblestones, kicking with their hind legs, oblivious to everything around them, tails lashing madly. The screams of the girls seemed far away and unimportant as the blood rushed to their heads.

Spyro roared as Flame's teeth sunk into his snout and dug the claws of his hind legs into his adversary's soft belly scales. Flame released the purple dragon's snout, snarling in pain as Spyro pinned him onto his back. Fire welled up in the back of his throat as Flame prepared to use his element on his opponent, but before he got the opportunity Spyro was suddenly hauled off him.

A pair of strong claws wrapped themselves around Flame's upper body as he attempted to leap back toward Spyro and he was dragged backwards. For a moment he fought blindly, his senses dulled by anger, until Thasos's voice reached him in his blind rage.

"Enough!"

Chest heaving, Flame slowly relaxed and returned to his senses. He realised, glancing at the strong paws around his chest, that Thasos had been the one to haul him back. Across from them, Spyro had been given a similar treatment by Terrador, who was looking even sterner than usual. The purple dragon returned Flame's glare, perhaps with less hate than the red dragon, blood dripping from the bite mark on his muzzle. Flame snarled and winced as the wounds on his underbelly twinged painfully.

"That is quite enough, both of you," Terrador boomed, unmasked anger in his tone. "Spyro, you should know better than this! And the same for you, Flame!"

"I would have expected better from you," Thasos agreed, though with less anger than the Earth Guardian. "Have I not told you before not to be so quick to pick a fight? What must I do to get you to obey me? You could have both been seriously hurt!"

Flame glared at the ground, although only a part of him felt shamed. The other part felt that he had every right to attack Spyro. That purple dragon was too overconfident for his own good. What Flame didn't realise, however, was that Spyro thought the very same thing about him.

Terrador had released Spyro, "There is no excuse for fighting amongst fellow dragons, Spyro, not matter what. You may be the saviour of the world, but that does not excuse you from treating others with the respect you wish to be treated with!"

"He was the one who started it!" Spyro protested.

"I do not care who it was that started this fight," Terrador boomed, raising his voice. "You participated and therefore you are _both_ in the wrong! Do you understand?"

Spyro averted his eyes from the guardian, still angry at being treated like _he _was the one who had attacked first. He wasn't used to being treated like the bad guy and it wasn't a particularly nice feeling.

"Alright," he mumbled, after a moment of angry consideration and glaring at the ground, "I understand. It won't happen again."

"I should hope not," was Terrador's reply.

Flame wasn't ready to promise such a thing so easily, however. Whether it happened again or not, he decided, was highly dependent on whether or not Spyro angered him again. And he was sure that this was not the last time he would come to blows with the purple dragon.

Cynder and Ember exchanged anxious looks, thinking exactly what Flame was. The black dragoness quickly slipped to Spyro's side, inspecting his wounds with an anxious eye. The purple dragon stood as still as possible and blushed when Cynder licked the blood from his snout, cleaning his wound. Flame only glared at the ground as Ember timidly made her way towards him.

"You know, Terrador," said a new voice, and every eye turned towards it.

Cyril and Volteer had just arrived and it appeared they had witnessed the fight between Spyro and Flame. The two guardians were looking less stern than Terrador and there was a glint in Cyril's eye, as though he'd suddenly had an idea.

"Perhaps we should have structured battles between the young dragons," he suggested, looking down at Spyro and Flame with scrutiny. "That way we could train them as well as giving them time to vent their anger in a…_controlled _situation. What do you say?"

The Ice Guardian looked to Terrador for his opinion and it appeared the Earth Guardian was thinking it over. He wasn't the only one. Flame seemed intrigued by the concept, to say the least, although he would prefer to fight Spyro without rules. Ember stared off into the distance, wondering if she'd be expected to participate in these mock battles and wondering if she would have to fight Spyro. The purple dragon had other thoughts.

"You think I need training?" he asked Volteer, slightly offended. "I've travelled half the world fighting Malefor's army and even beat the Dark Master himself…and you think I need training?"

The Guardian of Electricity smiled kindly down at the purple dragon, "You're never too old to learn new tricks!"

Spyro didn't seem convinced, but Cynder nudged him with her snout, catching his attention, "Come on, Spyro, it could be fun!"

"Hmm," he grunted, flashing her a quick smile that looked more like a grimace.

"That is an interesting idea, Cyril," Terrador said at last, "however, considering the animosity between those two, these fights could well get far out of hand. Perhaps it would be best for Flame and Spyro not to verse each other directly. In fact…I believe Ember and Cynder would make perfect opponents for them."

"What!" yelped four voices at once, as four sets of eyes turned incredulously towards the Earth Guardian.

"You want me to fight Ember?" Flame gasped, his jaw dropping, as Ember squeaked a terrified "you want me to fight _Flame?_"

At almost exactly the same time, Cynder and Spyro yelled their disagreement.

"There's no way I'm fighting her!"

"There's no way I'm fighting him!"

Realising they'd spoken in sync, Spyro and Cynder exchanged embarrassed glances before looking bashfully away from each other. Terrador chuckled at their reactions as though it amused him greatly. Cyril and Volteer exchanged knowing smiles, having noticed the bashful looks on both Spyro and Cynder's faces.

"Now, now, don't be so quick to shoot it down," Terrador chuckled. "They're only mock battles! You won't actually have to hurt each other! It's all about training and learning how to play to your strengths. It is a great way of forming bonds, too. Come now, think it over. I think you might find it quite enjoyable."

The four young dragons exchanged anxious glances, none of them willing to fight their friends. Flame would have much preferred to fight Spyro, and vice versa, but he knew the guardians weren't going to allow that. Not after witnessing their little scuffle.

"Well…" Spyro mumbled, after a few moments of anxious hesitation, "I guess it would be okay…"

"Excellent!" Terrador seized on the opportunity before Spyro could take back his words. "Every second day, then! The two of you will join Flame and Ember here for training. I may want to use you two as examples, too, considering how much you already know. It's time to build you all into warriors!"

Spyro heaved a sigh. There was no arguing with Terrador now. He'd just have to put up with this training and hope that Flame's animosity towards him would eventually die down. But, in the true nature of the fickle hand of fate, things would only get worse before they got any better.

**A/N: Um...long action scenes? I couldn't resist. :) And things slowly get more interesting...Big thank you to reviewers, you keep me going!**


	9. A Day in the Valley

**9. A Day in the Valley**

Early morning, when the sun had risen to turn the sky a milky sort of blue, found a young pink dragoness wandering the corridors outside her room. She had been unable to sleep since the sun had risen, perhaps because she had been used to the darker mornings back in her old home, where the morning sun had been unable to pass though the solid rock walls that had surrounded the hidden paradise. But now the sun seemed awfully bright in the mornings and had roused her from a somewhat restless slumber. This was the first night she had spent in her new room, alone and without a single dragon to curl up against. She wasn't used to that.

So, leaving her empty room, Ember had decided to search for Flame, wherever he was. The corridors seemed awfully bare and the lack of dragons spooked her. Occasionally, odd little furry creatures would pass her, running on their short, little stubby legs and nodding politely at her as they passed. She'd never seen such a creature before, but she smiled politely all the same.

In the silence of the corridor only the tapping of her own paws was there to keep her company. She couldn't understand why such a large place was so empty of life.

Walking out onto the cobblestone streets, Ember let her gaze wander around her surroundings. The Atrium dominated much of this side of the city, rising far above the rest of the buildings. Through curving archways Ember could see small gardens laid out at random, granting colour to the otherwise pale beige of the rest of the city. Raising her gaze to the sky in an attempt to see the top of some of the buildings, Ember realised just how huge this place was. She had no idea where to start to look for Flame. Where was his room again? Had Terrador told her?

Sighing, Ember shook her head and turned towards the Atrium, figuring that would be the best place to start. As she wandered past the buildings and under archways, Ember couldn't help but notice the impressive designs of the structures, the way it flowed together as though it had been formed by nature itself. Vaguely, she wondered just who had built this magnificent city, because surely dragons could not have managed such a feat.

As the steps of the Atrium came into view, Ember saw the lean figure of a creature sitting on them. His back was rested against one of the impressive columns that appeared to hold up the roof of the Atrium and his attention was focused on something in his hands.

Ember moved closer, shyly and nervously, and saw that he held an arrow in his hands and a rock with which he was using to sharpen the arrowhead. The pink dragoness cocked her head, trying to figure out what sort of creature he was, but his face was covered beneath the hood he wore. His arms were covered with golden fur adorned with black spots, which seemed to shine in the morning sun. Hesitantly, Ember wandered closer.

"Excuse me?" she asked softly, catching his attention.

The creature raised his head, revealing startling aqua eyes beneath the darkness of his hood. Ember almost took a step back out of fear, but his smile, although ragged, was kind and convinced her to stay. Reaching up, the creature pushed his hood back and revealed his head, upon which sat two large, golden-furred ears. Ember suddenly realised that this must be one of those cheetahs that Thasos had once talked about. What an interesting creature he was.

"What can I do for you, young dragoness?" the cheetah asked kindly, depositing his arrow back in its quiver that he had laid beside him.

"Um," Ember paused, wondering if she should question him or introduce herself first. She chose the latter.

"My name is Ember," she said to the cheetah. "I'm looking for a friend of mine…"

"Ah yes," the cheetah said, with sudden understanding. "Yes, you were that young dragoness from the day before, in the Atrium. My name is Hunter. I imagine the friend you are looking for is that fiery young dragon you were with yesterday."

"Yes, yes that's him!" Ember nodded excitedly. "His name is Flame. I don't suppose you know where he is?"

Hunter paused, tapping his chin with a paw as he thought, "Well, it's likely he's still in his room. But I'm afraid I'm not sure where his room would be. Close to yours perhaps?"

Ember stared at him in surprise; she hadn't thought of that. Perhaps Flame's room _was_ close to hers and she needn't search the city for him. It would make sense, she decided, that Terrador would place their rooms close to each other. The Earth Guardian must have known that she wouldn't want to be separated from her friend in this strange and unfamiliar place.

"Yes, I didn't think of that," Ember admitted to the cheetah. "Perhaps I should search the rooms around mine…"

She was about to thank him when he suddenly stood up and shouldered his quiver and bow, smiling kindly at her.

"Would you like me to help you search?" Hunter suggested. "We should find him quicker that way."

Ember eyes widened and she smiled gratefully up at him, "Thank you. That would be helpful. This place is awfully quiet, too, and very lonely."

Side by side the oddly-matched pair wandered back towards the building in which Ember's room was situated.

"I know what you mean," Hunter replied, "and it is a shame that such a marvellous city should be so deserted. This is the price dragonkind had to pay for the malevolence of one of their own. We can only hope that more of your species still exist out there, somewhere."

"I hadn't realised just how little dragons there were," Ember murmured. "Back in my old home there were very few of us, but that seemed normal. But out here, in this huge world, everything seems so empty. But it seems so peaceful too. Sometimes it's hard to believe the stories that Thasos told us, of the Great War that ravaged the outside world, when everything now seems peaceful. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for those dragons who lived here during that war."

Hunter glanced at her, "It's not something you would want to imagine, Ember. The war was a terrible thing. Be grateful that you never had to experience it. And be grateful that it is now over."

"Yes…" Ember murmured and turned to him with a vibrant smile, "thanks to Spyro, right?"

The cheetah looked somewhat surprised, but smiled nonetheless, "Yes, thanks to Spyro."

The two stopped when Ember recognised the balcony of her room. It was on the second story of a long building, the lower level being occupied by a long hallway that was granted sun through the tiny arched windows in the wall. Ember craned her head up and noticed that there were many balconies beside hers at the same level, which must mean that there were many more rooms within this building than just her own. Swiftly counting the balconies, Hunter decided that there were at least ten rooms in this building.

"Which is yours, Ember?" the cheetah asked his dragon companion.

"That one," Ember pointed to the balcony second from the far right.

There were eight more balconies stretching towards the one on the far left of the building. Hunter glanced at the two rooms on either side of Ember's, but from where they were standing they seemed empty.

"Have you checked the rooms on either side of yours?" he asked, but Ember shook her head. "Then, we'll check those first."

The cheetah and the dragoness entered the lower level of the building and mounted the staircase up to the second story, where the rooms were situated. Ember knocked hesitantly on the door of the room to the left of hers, but there was no answer. Silently, Hunter pushed the door open and gazed around the room. It was empty save for a dusty old bookshelf against the wall. He shook his head and closed the door again.

They tried instead the door to the right of Ember's room, but again the room was empty. The pink dragoness wandered through the unoccupied room and out onto its balcony, Hunter following behind.

"He's not in either of these rooms," The cheetah stated, folding his arms and gazing around at the view of the city from the balcony.

Ember turned her head to the right, gazing along at the rest of the balconies lined up alongside this one. A flash of red sparkled in the sun and she squinted at the third balcony along. Sure enough, with scales glinting like gems of fire in the morning light, Flame lay sprawled across the balcony. Ember was surprised she hadn't noticed him sooner.

"Look, there he is!" she said excitedly, catching Hunter's attention.

He shielded his eyes with a hand and peered at the balcony that Ember was pointing to, "So he is. Will you be alright from here?"

"Yes," Ember nodded, rewarding him with a grateful smile, "thanks for your help!"

"Any time, young dragoness," Hunter replied as the pink dragoness spread her wings and glided towards Flame's balcony.

He watched her for a moment before turning away from the balcony and striding back through the deserted room, down to the ground floor and out of the building. With a spring in his step, Hunter headed for the main hall, which seemed a little busier than usual this morning.

Flame was lounging on the balcony, mostly unaware of his surroundings, when Ember alighted next to him. He didn't seem to notice her at first, his eyes closed as though in sleep. Ember crouched beside him, moving her muzzle close to the side of his head.

"Hey," she prompted softly, teasingly, "still sleeping?"

Flame cracked one gold eye open lazily and glanced at her, shifting slightly in the sun, "Ember, what's up?"

The pink dragoness nudged him with her hips playfully and circled him, but he didn't rise to the bait and merely watched her from his lounging position.

"Do you want to go for a walk with me?" she asked, swishing her tail eagerly. "I'd go myself, but it'd be lonely."

"A walk?" Flame raised his head barely an inch to look sceptically at her. "Why?"

"To explore the city, of course!" Ember replied, crouching low in front of him with her hind-quarters in the air, her snout almost touching his as she swished her tail playfully. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

But Flame wasn't convinced. He yawned loudly and widely, dropping his head back onto his paws as he gazed lazily at her through one eye.

"No thanks. I think I'll sleep a bit more."

A pout formed on Ember's muzzle and she glared at him, "Why not?"

"I don't feel like it," he replied shortly, somewhat irritably, before closing his one open eye again.

"You are so stubborn," Ember sighed, exasperated. "Why won't you walk with me?"

Flame's eyebrow twitched in irritation and he cracked one eye open again, "Because I don't want to! Find someone else to walk with! I'm tired!"

Ember felt her scales stand on end as she bristled with anger. Tossing her head upwards with an air of defiance, the pink dragoness stormed towards the doorway, her tail swinging angrily and almost clipping Flame upside the head. He remained where he was, lounging with his back to his room and facing the edge of the balcony, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sun. Ember shot his back one last dirty look, feeling very hurt indeed.

"Well, fine then!" she yelled when he didn't turn around. "I wouldn't want to walk with you anyway!"

Flame flinched at the hurt in her voice and cringed in regret, wishing he hadn't snapped at her. The door slammed as she left the room and he raised his head to glance regretfully after her. Maybe he should have agreed to walk with her. It was only a walk after all, he thought.

Ember stormed out of Flame's room, letting the door slam behind her. She stood for a moment, seething in anger, until she felt her spirits sink as the hurt set in. She glanced regretfully at the slammed door, wondering whether she should go back in and ask him in a nicer way. But an idea suddenly settled itself unbidden in her mind and she allowed herself a small smirk.

"Maybe I'll ask Spyro to walk with me," Ember said aloud, loud enough for her voice to carry through Flame's door. "I'm sure he wouldn't turn me down."

Almost instantly the door to Flame's room sprang open and the red dragon tumbled out at her feet, almost bowling her over as he skidded to an ungraceful stop. Flame straightened himself, regaining his balance with some embarrassment, his golden eyes flaring with anger.

"You stay away from that…that purple dragon!" He insisted, perhaps more forcefully than he should have. "_I'll _walk with you!"

Ember stared at him, feigning shock although she was smirking inside. Blushing, the pink dragoness smiled coyly and shuffled her feet shyly on the ground.

"That's awfully kind of you, Flame," she purred, as though it had been his idea all along, "but you needn't worry. I'm sure Spyro will take good care of me."

"No!" Flame insisted, barely restraining his anger, "I said I'd walk with you! You don't have to ask him! You're walking with me, okay?"

"Well…" Ember pondered, considering his proposal, "If you insist…"

"I do," Flame growled and stalked off down the corridor. "Come on."

Smirking to herself, Ember trotted after him, her tail swinging merrily behind her. Predictable dragons were so easy to deal with.

* * *

"Busy today, isn't it?" Hunter remarked to Cyril, sitting down beside the Ice Guardian at one of the long tables in the main hall.

The guardian nodded slowly, eyeing the large group of dragons that were queuing up outside the kitchens, waiting for their breakfast. Thasos' clan had taken to the city with ease and for once the main hall wasn't as empty as usual. Even so, the huge hall still seemed to have a large amount of empty space. It was pleasing that Spyro had managed to bring back over thirty new dragons, but there was no doubt that it simply wasn't enough. Warfang was meant to house thousands of dragons, but barely a hundred lived within its walls.

"They seem to have made themselves at home," Cyril replied, "that is a good sign. Now if only there were more. The third search party has yet to return. We can only hope they return with more dragons."

"Time will tell," was Hunter's reply, pulling out his arrows one by one to inspect their heads and sharpen them if need be.

Cyril shot him a glance, "What of the younger dragons? Have you seen them?"

"Flame and Ember, you mean? I saw them not moments ago. The young pink dragoness was looking for her friend and I left just as she found him. I believe those two will settle in easily."

"And what about Spyro and Cynder? Have you seen them?" Cyril questioned, noticing their absence in the hall.

But Hunter shook his head, "Afraid not. I'm sure those two are fine, though."

"I suppose you are right," Cyril agreed, "Those two would enjoy some time to themselves, I suppose."

In silence the two sat together and observed the comings and goings of the dragons in the hall. Thasos offered them a friendly wave as he passed, but didn't stop to chat. Seriphos stopped briefly by to ask of Terrador's whereabouts and left as soon as he had an answer. Hunter watched with amusement the antics of two middle-aged dragons, one yellow and one red, bickering over a deer's leg as a green dragoness rolled her eyes in exasperation. For once, everything seemed peaceful.

* * *

Ember had led Flame all over the city, much to his annoyance, his patience slowly wearing thin. They had passed more of those small furry creatures and found out from a passing dragon that they were called moles. Ember found them most curious. Flame was just about ready to drop when Ember spotted the main gardens. With a squeal of delight, the pink dragoness trotted merrily towards them. Flame followed on behind, slower, nearing the end of his tether. When he caught up to Ember, he found her gazing in awe at the tree in the very centre of the gardens.

Tiny white blossoms swayed gently on the branches, a few falling from the tree to float gently, like tiny fairies, to the ground. Ember stared up at it, awe and admiration gracing her face, and smiled as a tiny blossom landed softly on the end of her snout. Flame sat for a moment, at the edge of the gardens, watching her, glad for the respite. The wind blew one of the blossoms to his feet and it settled ever so lightly on one of his paws. Curious, Flame raised the blossom to eye-level, staring as it balanced on the tip of his paw until the wind blew it, swirling, away. His eyes watched the blossom until it was borne out of view on the breeze. His glance turned then, back to Ember.

"Is this the world?" Flame muttered to himself, watching the pink dragoness beneath the tree. "Is this what the outside world is like? Was Thasos lying to us when he spoke of the war?"

His golden eyes followed the path of another blossom as it drifted on the wind past his head. The cool wind was gentle, soft, and calmed his ever-present irritation.

"Such peace," he murmured, so quiet that only the wind heard him. "How can this place be the aftermath of war? How can such peace be the result of destruction?"

Flame stared at the white-blossomed tree as it swayed in the wind, its branches so flimsy it appeared that even the smallest of breezes would snap them in two. His mind filled with thoughts, questions that could not be answered, and his surroundings suddenly seemed irrelevant. Ember's voice called to him, a whisper on the edge of his consciousness, and he shook himself from his daze.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" the pink dragoness asked, smiling, still sitting beneath the tree.

Flame stared at her for a while, watching the way the falling blossoms seemed to caress her shining, pink scales like snow. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, so subtle it almost couldn't be seen.

"Yeah."

The two young dragons left the gardens shortly afterwards and headed, at last, for the main hall. Terrador had told them that it was the place where the dragons of Warfang met to eat and converse together. As they approached the huge building, they couldn't help but notice the size. It had to be at least as large as the Atrium, if not larger, and there were many large, arched windows that let light into the hall. The huge oak doors were opened, inviting, and there were many moles and the occasional dragon passing backwards and forwards through them. With little hesitation, Flame and Ember gratefully entered the hall.

* * *

Spyro was flustered. He'd searched what he was sure was the entire city of Warfang and not found any sign of Cynder at all. Sparx had followed on behind, complaining every so often and getting irritable when the purple dragon ignored him. But though they searched from the south wall to the north wall and back again, there was no sign of Cynder. Sighing, Spyro slowed to a stop outside the main hall and waited for Sparx to catch up.

"Maybe we missed her," Spyro suggested to the dragonfly, "let's check the main hall again."

"Whatever you say, buddy," Sparx sighed and hovered after his surrogate brother.

There were more dragons than Spyro was used to in the main hall and he was tempted to jump up onto one of the tables to get a better look around the hall. But instead he pushed his way through several small groups of dragons, waving to Hunter and Cyril as he passed, searching for that familiar black dragoness. But he didn't see her anywhere. Naxos called out from one side of the room, but Spyro merely smiled and waved at him.

The purple dragon halted in the middle of the hall and stared around at the dragons, hoping to see a flash of black scales or the glimmer of emerald eyes. His eyes fell instead on two familiar young dragons sitting together at a table not too far from him. Flame looked half asleep, his chin resting on the tabletop as he stared blankly into the distance. Dodging around another group of larger dragons, Spyro made his way towards Ember and Flame. The red dragon looked up as he approached and barely suppressed a glare, but Ember waved him over.

"Hey," Spyro greeted, sitting down opposite them as Sparx hovered beside him, "you haven't seen Cynder around, have you?"

"Why? Should we have?" Flame growled rudely and said nothing else.

Ember shot him an annoyed glance and answered Spyro herself, "No, sorry, we haven't seen her. Did you want to join us? The moles said they'd bring us something to eat. Funny little creatures, aren't they?"

Spyro replied with a strained smile, "No thanks, I'll keep looking for Cynder. Thanks anyway."

Conscious of Flame's glare on his back, Spyro turned and headed for the door. The red dragon gave Ember an annoyed glare once the purple dragon was gone.

"Don't ask him to join us," he muttered, "he might actually accept. And then we'd have to put up with him."

But Ember only returned his glare, "I don't know what your problem is with Spyro. He's a perfectly nice dragon."

Flame huffed angrily and Ember snuck him a sly glance, smirking.

"And he's pretty handsome, too," she added slyly.

Flame's angry yells drew many glances, but Ember merely sat and smirked at his reaction, looking very smug indeed.

Spyro looked back towards the main hall as he heard Flame's angry yells, but decided not to inspect. He still had to find Cynder. Just where could she be, anyway? With Sparx at his side, Spyro headed this time for the gardens on the slim hope that she would be there. But when he got there, he found only the white blossom tree standing alone in its isolated glory and no sign of the black dragoness.

Turning away from the gardens, Spyro decided on a different tactic. If he had any chance of finding her, it would be from the air.

Spreading his golden wings, Spyro took a short run before tensing the muscles of his legs and springing into the air. The wind caught his wings and carried him higher, up to the top of the buildings and higher still. Once he was above the level of the Atrium roof, one of the tallest buildings in the city with the exception of the lookout towers, Spyro began his search. He was above the very centre of the city and could see for miles in every direction, but his gaze was drawn instead to the ground.

"Keep a look out, Sparx," Spyro called to his dragonfly companion, "she could be anywhere."

"Gotcha."

Together, the odd pair searched the city of Warfang from the sky, looking for that elusive black dragoness amidst the tall buildings and spreading gardens. From up here, Spyro could see that there was much more damage done to the city than he had realised. The moles still had a long way to go before the city was back to its previous glory.

"You know," Spyro remarked to Sparx, "I haven't seen any of Hunter's tribe for a while."

"Maybe they all went back to their village?" Sparx suggested, shrugging.

That's right, Spyro remembered now. He'd almost forgotten about the cheetah village in the Valley of Avalar. Prowlus must have taken his tribe back there and Hunter had stayed behind in the city. An idea sprung into Spyro's mind as his thoughts turned to the Valley itself. He hadn't returned there since the war and he remembered it to be a very beautiful spot.

"Spyro, look!" Sparx's yell brought the purple dragon out of his thoughts. "There she is!"

Excited, Spyro gazed down at the city to where Sparx was pointing. Sure enough, he could see the shimmering, black-scaled figure of the dragoness he had been looking for. She was walking slowly, turning this way and that as though looking for something. Smiling, Spyro swooped down towards her, calling out to her.

Cynder looked up when she heard someone calling her name and had to jump backwards to avoid being knocked over as Spyro misjudged his landing. He staggered, gathering his balance again, and grinned at her.

"Spyro, there you are!" she cried. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!"

The purple dragon blinked in confusion, "You have? But…I've been looking for you!"

"Guess you missed each other," Sparx snickered.

Cynder rolled her eyes, "I searched almost the whole city and even asked Flame and Ember, but they said you'd already left the main hall. You just can't stay in one spot, can you?"

"It's not my fault," Spyro protested, "I was trying to find _you_!"

"You could have just come to my room in the first place! I went to your room first and you were already gone!"

"Well I…" Spyro stuttered, blushed, and admitted, "I don't…actually know where your room is."

Cynder stared at him, surprised, until a smile etched its way onto her muzzle. A giggle escaped her mouth and suddenly she was laughing as Spyro stared at her in amazement. He grinned, chuckling, and Sparx looked from one to the other in confusion.

"You blockhead," Cynder giggled, nudging her snout against his.

The purple dragon grinned and nuzzled the side of her head, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Why were you looking for me, anyway?" she asked, curious.

"Well…" Spyro hesitated, averting his eyes shyly, "I wanted to…to ask you…if you wanted to…spend the day with me? I just thought, you know, maybe you'd like to go somewhere with me and just…relax. I mean, because we've been doing so much, you might like a respite. What…what do you think?"

Cynder smiled at his bashfulness and edged closer, "I think it's a wonderful idea. But, where would we go?"

Spyro grinned, "The Valley of Avalar."

"Oh! We haven't been there for ages," Cynder agreed, swishing her tail in excitement. "It shouldn't be much more than a few hours' flight, too. We should leave soon, then."

"Soon," Spyro agreed, "but first we need to tell the guardians. Come on, they should be in the hall."

The purple dragon turned towards the main hall, following Sparx, when Cynder suddenly remembered why she had been looking for him.

"Spyro!" she called, catching his attention, and trotted up to him. "I wanted to show you…"

The black dragoness waved one of her paws in his face, showing off the silver band that was clipped around her anklet. Spyro stared at them and felt a blush spread across his cheek scales. Those were the anklets he'd given her, the ones he'd found in the old storeroom back in Flame's old home. The moles had polished them up, removing any trace of dust or grime, and they sparkled almost as bright as spirit gems. The moonstones were smooth, perfect, and shone like Cynder's own scales. They truly did suit her.

"Y-you're wearing them…" Spyro stuttered, tripping over his own tongue, "They…they look good on you."

Cynder smiled coyly, "Thank you, Spyro. I really like them."

"I'm…glad," he managed to say. His scales suddenly felt very hot.

"Oi, are you coming or not?" Sparx grumbled, annoyed, perhaps by the growing atmosphere between the two dragons.

"Coming!" they called together and raced after the dragonfly, brushing the moment aside.

The hall wasn't quite as busy as it had been before when Spyro and Cynder approached. The three guardians, along with Thasos, Hunter, Flame, Ember and a few other dragons were the only ones present. Spyro made a beeline straight for the guardians, who were accompanied by Hunter, waving at Thasos, Flame and Ember as he passed. Terrador saw him approach and silenced the other two guardians, allowing Spyro to speak.

"Good morning, Terrador," Spyro greeted, "could I have a word? There's something I wish to ask."

Terrador raised a curious eyebrow, "Ask away, young dragon, ask away."

"Well," Spyro looked back over his shoulder at Cynder briefly, "I was wondering if you'd let Cynder and I spend the day at the Valley of Avalar. We just want to head somewhere where we can relax for a while."

Terrador pondered it for a moment, exchanging dubious glances with the other two guardians. The Earth Guardian shook his head slowly.

"The Valley is a few hours flight from here," Terrador replied, "You likely wouldn't be back by nightfall and I still want you for training tomorrow…"

Spyro's spirits fell and he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Hunter. The cheetah folded his arms and flashed Spyro a reassuring grin before addressing the Earth Guardian.

"If you'd allow me to speak, Terrador, they're welcome to spend the night at my village. I was about to head back to the Valley myself. I'm sure they'll return here tomorrow in time for your training. In fact, I'll make sure of it, cheetah's honour," Hunter insisted.

Terrador paused, eyeing the cheetah sternly as he pondered what his decision would be. Spyro and Cynder exchanged hopeful glances, waiting for Terrador's decision. Flame and Ember were listening with interest from across the room. At last the Earth Guardian passed his judgement.

"Very well," Terrador sighed, "you may spend the day at the Valley, as long as you don't cause too much trouble for Hunter's village."

"Thank you, Terrador!" Spyro grinned, and turned to grin at the cheetah, "And you, too, Hunter."

The cheetah nodded in acknowledgement, but Terrador was still looking dubious, as though he really didn't want them to leave the city. They were interrupted, however, before he could change his mind, by Flame and Ember. The young dragons had hurried over upon hearing Terrador agree with Spyro's request.

"I don't suppose you'd let us go, too?" Ember asked, hopefully, her eyes glinting eagerly.

But Thasos put an end to their hopes, "I don't think that's a good idea, Ember. You've only just arrived here at Warfang. I think it best that you get used to the city before you go on any field trips. Don't you agree, Terrador?"

Terrador cast a glance at Ember's disappointed face and shook his head apologetically, "Thasos is right, young dragons. Perhaps next time you will get your chance."

Ember sighed a small stream of smoke, her shoulders drooping in disappointment. Annoyance graced Flame's face, perhaps at the knowledge that Terrador was granting Spyro permission but not him. The purple dragon shrugged apologetically at the two of them.

"Sorry," he offered, "but, maybe next time? I'll take you to see the Valley some other time. Promise."

Ember smiled gratefully at him, much to Flame's annoyance, "Thanks, Spyro, that'd be nice."

"I think it's time we left, don't you think, Spyro?" Cynder cut in, eager to get going now that the guardians had approved.

"Right!" Spyro turned to Hunter. "Hunter, are you ready to leave?"

"Of course," the cheetah said, patting the quiver slung over his shoulder. "But I'm afraid I'll be a bit slower than you. You should go on ahead. I'll take the Forbidden Passage and should reach there by afternoon. Don't worry, I'm sure Prowlus will be happy to let you into the village. If not, I'm sure Meadow will vouch for you."

Remembering the cheetah that he and Cynder had once saved, Spyro nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it'll be good to catch up with Meadow again. We'll see you later, then, Hunter."

Spyro glanced at Cynder, silently asking if she was ready, and she nodded her assent. Sparx offered him a thumbs-up, confirming that he was coming too, and Spyro turned to bid the guardians a farewell.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Spyro promised.

"Remember, I want you back by midday for training," Terrador replied sternly, waiting until Spyro nodded in consent.

"See you, Flame, Ember," he offered, but only Ember returned the farewell.

Waving, Spyro and Cynder headed for the door, Sparx hovering behind, promising to be back by midday tomorrow. Ember and Flame watched them with considerable envy. Hunter shouldered his bow, brushing crumbs off his clothes, and straightened his cloak.

"I'd best be off, too," he announced, turning to Terrador. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'll be sure to visit as often as I can."

"Safe passage, Hunter," Terrador replied, "We hope to see you again soon."

Offering a farewell wave to the rest of them, Hunter left the main hall after Spyro and Cynder and headed back to his home in the Valley of Avalar.

* * *

It was shortly past midday when the Valley of Avalar came into view. The sound of falling water reached their ears as they soared over the thick canopy of trees and beheld the charming valley. Spyro dipped low, his paws brushing the leaves of the trees as he dove towards the river. He scraped the surface of the water with his wingtip, creating ripples that were quickly swallowed up by the flowing motion of the river. Cynder followed close, gazing with admiration at the familiar sights of the valley.

Spyro circled slowly in the air and came to rest on an outcrop of rock, gazing around at the lush forests and rugged mountain faces that surrounded them. He breathed in deep, filling his lungs with the fresh scent of nature, a scent he hadn't realised he'd missed so much. Cynder touched down beside him and the two of them took in the appreciable sights and sounds of the valley. For a moment neither spoke, content with the silence of nature, until Sparx broke the silence.

"Hey, the cheetah village is up that way," Sparx pointed out, pointing up river to where the cheetah colony was hidden behind thickets of trees.

"We should go see them," Spyro agreed. "Meadow will be glad to see us, I'm sure."

The purple dragon began the walk upstream with Sparx at his side. Cynder followed quickly, enjoying the feeling of soft grass beneath her paws, instead of the hard cobblestones of the city streets.

"Let's hope we can say the same about Prowlus," she added, slinking to Spyro's side.

After a slow moment of walking, enjoying the scenery, the two dragons saw the cheetah village come into view. Spyro remembered that it had once been damaged in an attack by Grublins, but now it appeared to be back to its full glory. It was a very simple village, consisting only of small huts and shelters surrounded by a short wooden wall. Spyro was reminded of Thasos' village, although, admittedly theirs had been rather more ramshackle than the cheetah village.

A few tall cats could be seen wandering through the village, others sitting together in the centre in a conversational circle. Spyro craned his head to look over the wall, but caught no sign of Chief Prowlus. Shrugging, he and Cynder made their way up the short slope to the village.

"Spyro, Cynder!" called a voice suddenly.

Spyro paused, looking around for the speaker. He was sure that voice was familiar but couldn't place whom exactly it belonged to. His eyes fell at last on an orange-furred cheetah at the far end of the village, waving at him and Cynder. The cheetah stood up and made his way slowly towards them. As he got closer, Spyro suddenly recognised him.

"Meadow!" he cried, laughing, and ran towards his old friend. "It's good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too," Meadow agreed, leaning on his bow, "both of you. How have you been and what brings you back here?"

"We're just taking a break from the city," Cynder explained, "and decided we'd like to visit the Valley again. It's wonderful to see this place again, it's just as beautiful as I remember it."

Spyro nodded in agreement, casting his gaze around the small cheetah village, "I see you've rebuilt your homes. Prowlus must be pleased."

"Yes," Meadow nodded, "It was the first thing Chief Prowlus had us do after the end of the war. Our homes are as good as new, although we should thank you for helping protect them back during that Grublin attack. And also, thank you for saving me from those beasts. I am eternally grateful to both of you."

Pleased by the praise, Spyro and Cynder grinned at each other.

"Hey, what about me?" Sparx asked irritably. "Who was the one who stole that key, huh? Those two dragons couldn't have saved you without my help!"

Meadow chuckled, reaching out to allow Sparx to settle on his paw, "Of course, little dragonfly, I should thank you too."

The reunion was interrupted, however, by the arrival of the chief. Prowlus approached from behind, three of his clan following behind with a large deer slung over their shoulders. He looked over the two dragons with a disapproving eye and instead addressed Meadow.

"Meadow, what are they doing here?" Prowlus asked, gruffly.

Meadow folded his arms, a challenging look in his eye, "They came to visit us and they are our guests. So we should treat them as guests, don't you agree? There is much to be thankful to them for."

Prowlus hesitated, his eyes still full of distrust, but at last he shook that feeling aside and gazed down at the apprehensive faces of the two dragons. Their eyes stared stonily back at him, waiting with hesitation for him to kick them out of his village. But his face softened somewhat and he shook his head.

"Very well," he murmured, much to their surprise, "I suppose I, like the whole world, has the two of you to thank for our lives. You may stay, as guests."

Cynder looked stunned, but Spyro smiled gratefully at the cheetah chief, "Thank you, chief Prowlus. We'll try not to be too much trouble."

Prowlus stared him down for a moment before giving a short, stiff nod and turned back to his tribe. Sparx swiped his hand across his forehead in relief, leaning on Meadow's shoulder lazily. The cats had laid the large deer they'd caught on the ground and were currently stringing its legs together to hang it over the fire. Prowlus beckoned to the young dragons.

"Come," he called, "as you are our guests, I am obliged to ask you to share our meal. You must be hungry after the flight from Warfang."

"Thank you, Prowlus," Cynder and Spyro said together, cheered by the Chief's change in demeanour.

Together, the two dragons joined the cheetah tribe in their meal, leaving Sparx to feast on the small butterflies that flickered backwards and forwards in the Valley. It was good to be back amongst nature, where their only roof was the canopy of the trees and the vast, never-ending blanket of sky.

* * *

As Hunter predicted, it was afternoon before he returned to the Valley of Avalar. Upon approaching the cheetah village, he was greeted by many cheerful cats who had waited for his return. Spyro and Cynder, though, were nowhere to be seen. Hunter approached Chief Prowlus, after bidding his fellow cheetahs a cheerful hello, and waved merrily at Meadow. The Chief nodded approvingly at Hunter, whom he had always considered to be his best warrior, if it wasn't for his occasional rash decisions.

"Hunter, I see you have finally decided to return," Prowlus noted, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Yes, I decided it would be best to return to my home village," Hunter shrugged, "but tell me, did Spyro and Cynder drop by earlier today?"

"They did," Prowlus confirmed. "Was it you who sent them?"

"Yes," Hunter grinned, "and no. It was their idea, I just suggested a place to stay. I hope you were accommodating."

Prowlus merely grunted and moved on to join another group of cats as Meadow approached. The darker-furred cheetah clapped Hunter on the back, good-naturedly.

"He was," Meadow supplied Hunter with his answer, "after a bit of coaxing, that is."

"That's good," Hunter watched his chief for a moment. "I was hoping he wouldn't cause too much of a commotion at seeing those two in the village again. Where are they, do you know?"

"Spyro and Cynder?" Meadow waved vaguely at the Valley beyond the walls of their village. "They went out together to find some time to themselves. Ah, to be young and in love… The little dragonfly stayed behind, though. There he is."

Hunter turned in the direction Meadow was pointing and saw that Sparx was indeed hovering in the centre of the village with a group of cats surrounding him. It was likely he was telling a highly-fabricated version of Spyro's travels, in which he, Sparx, always saved the day. Hunter could barely suppress a grin.

"Perhaps we should go join them," he suggested to Meadow, "I'd like to hear what Sparx has to say."

"If you say so, Hunter," Meadow chuckled, "if you say so."

And that was just what the two cheetahs did.

* * *

As evening fell, the setting sun turned the waters of the waterfall molten gold. Spyro landed at the very top of the highest waterfall he could find and let his gaze wander over the whole valley that was laid out before him. From the lush green grasses, tinted orange by the setting sun, to the rugged mountain faces that appeared to be forged from gold, everything was beautiful. But, Spyro's eyes turned instead to the dragoness standing beside him. Nature's beauty couldn't even hope to measure up to her.

Like gems, her black scales glimmered, reflecting the orange light of the sunset and dazzling his eyes. The red scales of her chest were as vibrant, if not more so, than the charming pink flowers that dotted areas of the valley. And her eyes, Spyro couldn't even begin to describe her eyes. Like jewels, they were, perfect emeralds. She couldn't be any more perfect, not in his eyes.

Cynder felt Spyro's eyes on her and looked at him, but he quickly looked away as though he hadn't been staring at all. Sighing, Cynder found herself wishing she could say those three words again, those three words that seemed unable to ever leave her tongue for a second time. But although it was a perfect moment, where everything was silent and only the setting sun was watching, she found herself unable to say it.

A mischievous smile spread across her muzzle and she stealthily snuck closer to him. Before he could make a move, she hissed quietly in his ear, "you're it!" and licked his cheek with a quick flick of her tongue.

Spyro flinched, startled by the sudden movement, but instantly chased after her as she dove from the top of the waterfall. He snapped his wings shut and rocketed down towards her, determined to catch her, but was startled when she suddenly pulled up and zoomed away from him. Spreading his wings, he strained to pull up and zipped after her as fast as he could fly.

"That was cheating, Cynder!" the purple dragon yelled, grinning. "I wasn't ready!"

Her voice was carried to him on the wind as she yelled back, "There's no rules in tag! You're just too slow!"

"Oh yeah?" Spyro muttered to himself, smirking.

Straining his wings, Spyro slowly gathered speed, catching up to the elusive black dragoness. She swirled and twisted in front of him, teasing him as she easily outflew him with the help of her wind element. As the last of the sun's rays faded to darkness, the moons became their only source of light. But neither of them stopped. Cynder banked to the right, swerving around a jutting face of rock, and was lost in the shadows of the trees. Spyro shot after her, straining his eyes to see in the darkness and almost collided headfirst with a tree trunk.

Swerving quickly, Spyro was forced to turn an awkward pirouette to avoid the tree and skidded to a halt on the ground, sending both dirt and grass flying. He picked himself up with a groan and heard a giggle come from above him. Craning his head upwards, Spyro saw Cynder outlined against the moons, perched on the top of a large, jutting rock. She giggled again, her eyes flashing in the moonlight and for a moment he was struck dumb by her beauty. But suddenly she winged away and he instantly leapt into the air after her.

Turning circles and swerves in the night sky, the two dragons chased one another through the valley, swooping around cliff faces and through walls of falling water. Spyro laughed as the fresh air filled his lungs and the water droplets from the waterfall cooled his purple scales. He had never felt so free and so exhilarated. He watched the figure of Cynder, her curves highlighted by the moons, as she soared gracefully through the night sky. She turned her eyes back to him and flew, enticingly, away from him.

Spyro followed eagerly, silently winging his way higher into the sky until he was far above her level. He saw her pause, looking around in confusion, wondering where he had gone. Taking his chance, Spyro dove down on top of her and wrapped his paws around her chest. She squealed as he propelled them both down towards the river.

A great splash rose above the water as both Spyro and Cynder crashed into the river from above. Cynder shut her eyes tight as she was submersed in water and panic almost surfaced in her chest. But her paws found the bottom of the river and she pushed against it with all her might. She and Spyro were sent rocketing upwards and out of the river to land sprawled on the bank, soaking wet and coughing up the water they had swallowed. The black dragoness glared at her companion.

"What did you do that for?" she asked, shaking water off her scales.

Spyro grinned sheepishly and coughed again, spitting water out. "Oops."

Cynder rolled her eyes and stood up, shaking her tail dry. Spyro stood up slowly, water cascading down his scales, illuminated by the silver light of the moons. Cynder froze as she gazed at him, thoughts entering her head that made her blush, but unable to tear her eyes away from his moonlit form. He tossed his head, sending water droplets flying like tiny crystals, and turned to grin roguishly at her. The black dragoness felt her heart begin to beat faster and she was glad that the darkness and her black scales hid her blush.

Spyro noticed the way she was staring at him and suddenly felt both self-conscious and pleased. Her wide emerald eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight and he edged closer to her, hesitantly.

"Did I…hurt you?" he asked gently, concerned.

But she shook her head, flustered, "N-No! I just got wet, that's all."

Spyro grinned, "But you have to admit it was fun!"

Cynder glared at him, but there was a smile on her muzzle, "It was not, you buffoon! You could have drowned me!"

Spyro laughed as she pushed him over and rolled over onto the darkened grass, pulling her down with him. She squealed as he pulled her over onto the wet grass, giggling as she attempted to gain the advantage. After a short scuffle Cynder managed to pin the purple dragon down, resting on his chest as she gazed down at his brilliant, lilac eyes. Spyro gazed up at her, breathing heavily and grinning. Her smile softened. The grass was wet and stuck to his back, but Spyro found he didn't mind it at all. His eyes fixed on Cynder's and he realised at last something he had been debating on. He was sure now, after having spent so long with her and realising that he didn't want to be in anyone else's company but hers. He was sure now that he loved her.

"Cynder…" Spyro murmured, softly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

"What is it?" she asked, enjoying the feeling of his heart beating against her chest.

"I…" Spyro gulped and felt the words stick in his throat.

Cynder stared down at him, waiting for him to speak. But he seemed to have lost his voice. Her heart beating faster, Cynder wondered if this was the moment she had been waiting for.

"I…" he tried again, but again the words evaded him, "I…"

Spyro felt his spirits fall as he realise he wasn't going to be able to say it. Why? Just why was it that he was unable to say those tiny words? He wanted to, oh how much he wanted to. Cynder's emerald eyes stared into his, waiting for him to finish, filled with a sort of desperate longing. But Spyro just couldn't find a way to say it to her.

"I…really like spending time with you," he finished lamely.

Cynder's spirits sank and she averted her eyes, suppressing a disappointed sigh.

"I like spending time with you, too, Spyro," she whispered, but didn't meet his eyes.

'_More than you know_,' Cynder added in her mind.

Spyro saw the disappointment in her eyes and felt his heart ache in shame. But the words just wouldn't come out, no matter how much he tried, how much he wanted to say it. Sighing, Spyro craned his head upwards to nuzzle Cynder's neck and she purred, satisfied at the contact. After a moment, the black dragoness shifted off him and allowed him to get up. Spyro averted his eyes, out of shame and disappointment more than anything.

"We…we should head back," he suggested, "It's dark."

"Yeah," Cynder agreed, the disappointment still evident in her voice.

Together, the two dragons headed back towards the cheetah village for the night. Their thoughts were filled with each other, but somehow neither seemed able to admit it. Spyro heaved a sigh as he wandered beside the black dragoness he cared for so much. There had to be a way, he thought, to say those words to her. But for the moment he could only repeat them over and over in his mind, wishing that somehow she would hear it.

'_I love you, Cynder._'

**A/N: Gah, too long! A bit of a filler chapter, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless. I can't believe I've written so much already, and I feel like I've barely even started. I quite enjoy writing this, so expect quick updates. Thanks for reading. And thanks for any and all reviews! ^.^**


	10. Competition and a New Fire Guardian

**10. Competition and a New Fire Guardian**

Flame paced backwards and forwards agitatedly, his claws tapping a rhythm on the cobblestones of the courtyard. Terrador sat stiffly at the edge of the courtyard, looking skywards, waiting for something. Not far from him sat Ember, her blue eyes following Flame as he continued his tetchy pacing. The silence was so severe that she could hear every step he took with startling clarity. His paws were slowly clenching, his patience wearing thin, but Terrador didn't seem to notice. The tapping of his claws continued their rhythm, almost hypnotising the watching Ember.

"Argh, why should we have to wait for them anyway?" Flame snapped, causing Ember to jump in surprise.

Terrador turned his calm eyes on the agitated red dragon, "Patience, Flame. The midday bell has yet to toll. They'll be here."

Flame's scowl deepened, "I wasn't asking confirmation for whether they would come or not, I was asking _why _we have to _wait _for them!"

Terrador didn't reply, instead he turned his eyes back towards the sky, aggravating Flame even further. Flame snarled, baring his teeth, and resumed his pacing with renewed gusto. Back and forth, Ember watched her friend until she could no longer stand the clacking of his claws against the stones.

"Stop pacing, Flame," she pleaded, approaching him, "you'll make yourself dizzy. I'm sure we won't have to wait for much longer."

Flame paused in his pacing and opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by Terrador's booming voice.

"There, see?" he called, still gazing skywards. "Here they come now."

"Huh?" Flame craned his head to the sky as Ember did the same.

Sure enough, soaring towards them from out of the clouds were the forms of two dragons. Flying closer, the two dragons circled above the courtyard before floating to a graceful landing in front of Terrador. The Earth Guardian smiled, pleased, as Spyro and Cynder alighted before him with Sparx between them. The purple dragon grinned, somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry we're late," he offered.

"Late?" Terrador questioned and then smiled. "Not at all, young dragon. If I'm correct, you are in fact…"

He paused as the deep tolling of the main bell declared midday.

"…right on time," he finished as the knells of the bell died away.

Spyro and Cynder exchanged triumphant grins as Flame gave a huff of annoyance. Ember nudged him, but he only swished his tail and supplied her with a look of impatience. Terrador beamed at the two young dragons.

"I gather you enjoyed your stay at the Valley?"

Spyro nodded quickly, "Of course, it was great to see it again, and to relax."

"But Hunter had us up at the crack of dawn to make sure we got back here on time," Cynder added with a soft laugh.

Terrador nodded slowly, the hint of an amused smirk on his muzzle, "Well, I'm glad you have had time to relax. Now, though, it's time to begin your training. Or rather, in your case, continue it. Are you ready, Spyro, Cynder?"

The two dragons barely hesitated before replying with confidence, "We are."

Terrador gave a satisfied nod, "Very well then. Firstly, I want to see what you are capable of. Spyro, Cynder, you will verse each other. I do not want any usage of any element of any form, do you understand? This is a physical fight. However, if things should get out of hand, I will call a stop to it instantly. Is that clear?"

Spyro hesitated and cast Cynder a nervous glance, but she only smiled reassuringly at him, an odd glint in her eyes. He didn't want to fight her, but if that was what Terrador insisted on, he had no choice. Suppressing a sigh, Spyro turned his determined glance on the Earth Guardian.

"Alright. I'm ready."

"Me too," Cynder added, nudging Spyro playfully, "I'm ready, too."

"Good," Terrador beckoned to the other two dragons, "Flame, Ember, clear the ring. I want you to observe this and see how Spyro and Cynder handle themselves. All right, you two, into the ring. Good luck."

The two pairs of young dragons passed each other as Spyro and Cynder moved into the ring, and Flame and Ember moved out. Ember winked at the purple dragon, flashing him a grin and, surprisingly, Flame grinned too. But his was a smirk that said quite clearly 'I hope you lose.' Spyro returned Flame's smirk with a glare, before flashing a confident grin.

'_You wish_.'

Flame's smirk vanished and he scowled at the purple dragon before tossing his head and stalking to the edge of the ring. With Flame and Ember out of the ring, Spyro and Cynder took their positions facing each other. As they began to circle one another, Spyro was reminded of a similar situation in the arena of a fleet of pirates three years earlier. They hadn't ended up fighting in that arena, but Spyro still remembered the blood-curdling cries of the watching crowd as they waited for the two dragons to fight to the death.

Ironically, Spyro remembered, it was partly thanks to Malefor's forces that had stopped him from having to fight Cynder in the pirates' arena. Shaking the memories out of his head, Spyro focused his gaze on the black dragoness.

"Don't go easy on me just because I'm a girl," Cynder insisted slyly, smirking. "I certainly won't go easy on you, purple boy."

Spyro allowed a grin to creep onto his face, "Don't start getting cocky yet, Cynder. You have no idea what I am capable of."

"Oh?" Cynder winked at him, grinning. "We'll see about that, Spyro."

"You may begin," Terrador called.

For a moment nothing happened. Sparx turned away, covering his eyes and muttering about being unable to watch. The two dragons continued to slowly circle one another, watching and waiting. Cynder's eyes glinted with amusement.

"Not going to attack, Spyro?"

"After you," he grinned, winking.

"Gladly," Cynder took the invitation without hesitation.

Ember barely stifled a gasp as Cynder shot towards Spyro with such speed that she appeared but a black blur of scales. The purple dragon hadn't been expecting such a swift attack, but reacted just as swiftly, leaping into the air before she could strike him. Her horns clipped the underside of his tail as she shot beneath him, and she was forced to snap her wings open and take flight to keep from tumbling across the ground.

Spyro circled behind her, taking advantage of her momentary defencelessness before she had time to recover from her missed strike. Cynder yelped as Spyro collided feet-first with her back, sending her thudding to the ground as he sprang off her.

Managing to land on her feet, Cynder winced as the force with which she hit the ground sent painful vibrations up her legs. She stood staggering for a moment as Spyro circled above her, conscious that the purple dragon was reluctant to finish her off. Taking advantage of his hesitation, Cynder sprang swiftly upwards and caught Spyro in the midriff with her horns, tossing him higher into the air as though he was little more than a lifeless sack of scales.

Spyro felt the wind rush out of him as Cynder's horns connected with his vulnerable belly scales, and realised after a moment that his short ascent had halted and he was now plummeting towards the ground. Blinking out of his momentary stun, Spyro twisted himself around and caught himself before he hit the ground, spreading his wings to catch the air and halt his descent.

Cynder hurtled towards him again before he could catch his breath and, startled, Spyro twisted sharply away from her. His tail whipped around, catching her in the side of the head and sending her spiralling to the ground.

Her body bounced across the cobblestones, coming to a rest at the edge of the ring, and Cynder raised her head with a dazed expression. Spyro halted and gazed down at her, concerned, but he had no need to be. The black dragoness quickly snapped her gaze back to him and pushed herself to her feet as the purple dragon alighted in front of her. She leapt over him, much to his surprise, and landed behind him, using her tail to knock his legs out from under him. Spyro grunted in pain as his chin collided with the ground, jarring his bones and rattling his brains.

He was startled from his momentary daze as Cynder leapt onto his back, wrapping her paws around his chest in an attempt to pin him down. Gathering the strength in his back legs, Spyro heaved upright, tossing his head back and causing Cynder to fall back onto the cobblestones. She landed with a yelp, sprawled on her back with her wings pinned beneath her.

Spyro turned swiftly, preparing to jump on her and pin her down, but she had already recovered and propelled herself forwards into his chest. He was thrown backwards and spread his wings to stop himself from crashing to the ground.

As he winged higher into the air, Cynder tensed the muscles in her legs and took off after him. Neither of them seemed aware of the watching dragons below, or the fact that a crowd was slowly being drawn to the courtyard to watch their fight. Ember's eyes were wide with awe and amazement as she witnessed the swift moves of Spyro and Cynder, and even Flame couldn't keep the admiration off his face.

The red dragon was just itching to show off his own skills against Spyro, but he knew that with Terrador there he had little chance of doing so.

Spyro climbed higher and higher into the sky, conscious of the black dragoness hard on his tail. A mischievous grin etched its way onto his face as he prepared for his next move. He waited for the right moment, making sure that Cynder was still on his tail, and suddenly spun back towards her. Cynder gasped in shock as Spyro shot back down towards her.

She had been so close to him that she had no chance of dodging his kamikaze attack, and could only screw her eyes shut as he barrelled into her and wrapped his paws around her. The next thing she became conscious of was the fact that they were hurtling very fast towards the ground.

Spyro shot towards the ground, taking Cynder with him, watching as the stones of the courtyard quickly rose up to meet them. Gasps from the growing crowd didn't reach their ears as their audience beheld them hurtling towards the cobblestones. Moments before they hit, Spyro snapped his wings opened and caught the wind in an attempt to slow his descent. But the ground still seemed to be coming up rather fast. Acting quickly, Spyro spun his body to the side and crashed landed on his shoulder instead of crushing Cynder beneath him. The two dragons tumbled over one another before coming to a slow stop near the far edge of the ring in which they had been fighting.

Silence fell as the crowd exchanged anxious glances and Sparx peeked out from between his fingers. Ember took a worried step forwards, wondering if they were okay, while Flame merely looked on with apathy. Terrador hesitated and was about to hurry over to them, when Spyro raised his head.

The purple dragon blinked, slightly dazed, and shook the dizziness from his head. Cynder gazed up at him, looking just as dazed, and seemingly unaware of the position in which she was in. It dawned slowly on Spyro that he had managed to pin her beneath him in the short scuffle after their crash landing. He scrambled off her remarkable quickly, blushing, but she remained lying dazed on the ground.

"Are…are you okay, Cynder?" Spyro asked hesitantly, leaning over her again.

The black dragoness blinked her large, emerald eyes as she recovered from her stun, and supplied him with a reassuring smile.

"That was a daring move, Spyro," she teased and he stepped away to allow her to get up.

The purple dragon grinned, "And it worked, too! …Mostly."

The sound of applause reached their ears and they turned in shock to find a small crowd had gathered behind Terrador, consisting both of dragons and moles. The dragons stamped their feet in approval and the moles clapped their tiny hands furiously. Ember grinned at the two of them and Terrador nodded with approval, but Flame only rewarded them with a glare. Ignoring the red dragon, Cynder and Spyro exchanged embarrassed-yet-pleased glances.

"That was well done, young dragons," Terrador praised, calling them out of the ring, "Your efforts in the war have certainly bestowed you with much skill. But do not think that this excludes you from any further training. A warrior never stops training. Every new battle is a chance to hone one's skills. You don't want to lose those skills by becoming lazy, now do you? Very good, very good, young dragons. You have much to be proud of."

The two young dragons smiled gratefully at the Earth Guardian, pleased by his praise. Vaguely, Spyro wondered what Ignitus would think if he could see them now. He was sure that the former Fire Guardian would be just as proud of them. With that comforting thought in mind, Spyro thanked Terrador and the watching crowd and moved to stand next to Flame and Ember. The pink dragoness instantly smothered him with praise.

"That was brilliant!" she breathed, her tail quivering with excitement. "How do you fight like that? I've never seen someone with such skill! It's no wonder the Dark Master was no match for you!"

Flame growled in annoyance, but Ember ignored him. Spyro blushed sheepishly and shuffled his paws in embarrassment.

"I didn't defeat Malefor alone," he mumbled, "I had help…I couldn't have done it without Cynder."

Cynder cast him a grateful glance; she had been slightly aggravated with the way in which Ember had focused all her praise on Spyro. The pink dragoness nodded in understanding and gave Cynder a friendly look.

"I can understand why," she said, surprising Cynder. "You're a brilliant fighter, too. I've never seen someone so quick. How do you two do it?"

Cynder and Spyro exchanged amused grins and replied, "With lots of practice."

"Now then," Terrador interrupted, "Flame, Ember, now that you have witnessed the skills of two more experienced warriors,"—Spyro and Cynder grinned at this description of them—"I think it's time for you to give it a try. Are you ready?"

"What?" Ember yelped, glancing nervously at the growing crowd, "In front of everyone?"

"Come on, Ember!" Naxos roared from the crowd, "Show us what you've got!"

"Yeah!" Delos added, agreeing with Naxos for once. "Kick Flame's scrawny ass!"

Flame snarled at the larger red dragon, looking like he was about to respond, until Chios cut him off. She pushed her way between Delos and Naxos, ignoring their complaints and addressed Ember.

"Don't be nervous, Ember," the green dragoness insisted. "You can do this! We're just here to cheer you on. Go on, show us how the girls do it! And show Flame he's not the only one hot enough to be a warrior!"

The crowd roared in agreement and Ember felt her scales heat up in embarrassment. Flame snorted and turned away from the crowd, coming face to face with Spyro. The purple dragon almost stepped back from the ferocity in the red dragon's eyes, but stood his ground without batting an eyelid. Flame glared at Spyro as behind him the crowd encouraged Ember.

"Let me show you how a _real _dragon fights," Flame hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"I'd like to see you try," Spyro shot back, irritated, as Flame pushed past him and headed for the centre of the ring.

"Just ignore him, Spyro," Cynder murmured, nudging him, "he's only trying to get on your nerves."

Spyro didn't reply. At last, after a lot of encouraging words from both Terrador and the watching crowd, Ember was brave enough to enter the ring. She grimaced at Spyro and Cynder as she passed and Spyro noticed that she was shaking with nervousness. Terrador waited until both dragons had taken their positions, facing one another, in the middle of the courtyard.

"You ready, Ember?" Flame whispered, trying to look supportive although he was longing to show off his skills.

"No," she hissed back, "but I'll do what I can."

"Remember, no using your elements. This is a physical fight, understood? Then, you may begin," called Terrador's booming voice.

"Go!" yelled Sparx, punching a tiny fist in the air.

Flame made the first move, eager as he was to begin. Ember stumbled backwards in shock as Flame leapt the distance between them and swung his tail around to knock her forelegs out from under her. She only just managed to keep her balance and almost fell back onto her hindquarters, startled. Flame ducked low and charged forward, catching her in the chest with his horns, hard enough to knock her backwards but with not as much of his usual force.

Ember yelped as she was knocked onto her back. Scrambling with her hind legs, Ember found a foothold and pushed off with all her might, springing into the air above Flame.

The red dragon craned his head upwards as Ember hovered above him and tensed his legs to spring up after her. She winged away from him before he could barrel into her from below and he missed her by a scale. The crowd began to shout, yelling encouragement to the pink dragoness and raising her morale. Flame turned towards her.

"Come on, Ember," he insisted, "show me what you've got. I don't want to fight a one-sided battle."

The pink dragoness hesitated momentarily, before narrowing her eyes and shooting towards him. Flame winged backwards, but wasn't able to avoid Ember's charge as she cannoned into his midriff, knocking the wind out of him. Coughing, he flew lower, away from her, attempting to regain his lost wind.

Ember saw her chance and spiralled down towards him, paws first, crashing into him from above. Flame was pushed to the ground as Ember landed on his back and sprang off again, in an almost exact replica of the move Spyro had previously pulled.

But Flame recovered quicker than Cynder had, perhaps because Ember's weight hadn't been quite enough to stun him. He pushed off the ground almost the instant he touched it and caught Ember from below before she had a chance to realise her opponent had recovered. She emitted a cry of pain as she was thrown upwards and then tumbled down to land sprawled on the cobblestones.

For a moment she didn't get up and Flame circled above her, anxiously waiting. Moments passed and Flame hovered lower, concerned. On the ground, Ember gave a small moan.

"Ember?" Flame cried, landing beside her. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry! Ember?"

The pink dragon blinked, staring at him through half-closed eyes, and an unnoticed smirk etched its way onto her muzzle. Flame edged closer, worried that she wasn't responding, when she suddenly leapt to her feet and swung her tail in a wide whipping motion. Flame's legs were knocked out from under him and he landed sprawled, painfully on the ground, startled by the sneak attack.

He scrambled to get up, but Ember's horns caught him suddenly in the chest and he was thrown backwards across the cobblestones like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Very effective," Terrador commented from the sidelines, "the feint attack. Ember seems to have gotten the advantage over our hot-headed Flame."

But Flame wasn't quite done yet. He scrambled to his feet as Ember charged again and leapt into the air, causing her to miss by an inch as she shot beneath him. Ember skidded to a halt as she missed her target and, emboldened by her recent success, leapt into the air after him. But Flame was quite ready this time and also rather irritated at being fooled by her. He whipped his tail around with such force that, when it hit her, she was tossed from the air and shot towards the ground like a meteor.

Spyro yelped in surprise as the pink dragoness crash-landed into him, sending the both of them tumbling across the ground and into the crowd. The dragons quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid being bowled over, as Spyro and Ember skidded to a halt.

Anxiously, Cynder and Sparx hurried towards them to find the pink dragoness lying sprawled on top of the stunned purple dragon. Jealousy instantly filled Cynder's heart and she almost stalked over to them right then and there to tear the pink dragoness away from Spyro. But the large crowd that had gathered around them was enough to deter her from any rash actions.

Ember raised her head slowly, groaning as she shook the dizziness from her head. After a moment, she realised her position and felt her scales heat up in embarrassment. Spyro stared up at her, slightly stunned and unable to get up because she was pinning him down. A deep blush spread across her cheeks as she stared at him.

"Oops," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You okay?" Spyro asked, sitting up as she crawled off him and averted her eyes.

She was about to reply when Flame suddenly skidded to a halt between her and Spyro, his golden eyes blazing with fury towards the purple dragon.

"Get the hell away from her!" He snarled, raising his voice, smoking beginning to rise from his nostrils.

Anger rose within Spyro's chest and he retorted, "You're the one who threw her into me!"

"Shut the hell up!" Flame roared, moving to slash at Spyro with his lethal claws.

But Terrador interfered at just the right moment, knocking Flame off balance as he planted himself firmly between the two young dragons. Ember cringed away from him, trembling at the anger in the Earth Guardian's face.

"That will do!" he ordered, startling even the crowd. "There will be none of that during my training sessions!"

Flame snarled and turned his face away, still trembling with anger from some unknown source. Spyro glared at him before apologising to Terrador, slightly confused by Flame's sudden and unprovoked animosity. Cynder and Sparx hurried towards them, the former still feeling slightly jealous as she stared somewhat icily at Ember.

"That will do," Terrador repeated, quieter. "Ember, are you hurt?"

The pink dragoness shook her head, although she was slightly shaken up, "N-No, I'm fine. It's a good thing I managed to land on Spyro, or I might have been hurt. I let my guard down…sorry."

But the Earth Guardian wouldn't hear her apology, "Do not apologise, young dragoness. This training is for your benefit, to help you learn. I would be surprised if you didn't make any mistakes."

Ember nodded, staring at the ground, still embarrassed by what had occurred. The crowd, however, seemed to have found it most interesting. Naxos and Delos were still chuckling about the way in which Ember had managed to trick Flame during the fight. Ignoring them, Flame edged hesitantly closer to the pink dragoness.

"Ember…" he murmured, "I'm…sorry. I'll…go easier on you next time, if you want?"

She looked up in surprise and to his astonishment, shook her head, "No, it's my fault that I let my guard down! I just need to keep practicing and so do you! We need to practice together and become better fighters together. I don't want you to hold back because of me!"

"Alright, Ember," Flame replied, a smile tugging at his mouth, "if you insist."

"That's enough fighting for today, I think," Terrador announced, catching their attention. "Flame, Ember, you fought well, however there is still much room for improvement. I want you both to remain behind for practice. Spyro and Cynder, you may go."

Spyro nodded gratefully, exhaustion finally catching up to him after both the flight from Avalar and the fight with Cynder. Beckoning to the black dragoness, he led her away from the courtyard as Flame and Ember stayed behind with Terrador. Much of the next few hours for them were spent practicing on dummies as Terrador instructed them. The crowd slowly waned, bored, until the Earth Guardian finally dismissed his two tired pupils.

* * *

Spyro woke the next morning to find someone waiting outside his door. The purple dragon almost jumped backwards from shock when he opened the door to find Ember standing right on the other side, gazing at him with startling blue eyes. The shock must have shown on his face, because Ember quickly took a step back and apologised.

"Sorry!" she gasped. "I didn't mean to startle you!"

"I-It's fine…" Spyro stuttered, blinking in confusion, "but why are you here? Did you need something?"

The smallest of blushes crept across Ember's cheeks and she turned her eyes bashfully to the floor, "I, well…I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me. I don't know the city all that well, so I thought I'd ask someone to go with me. Would you?"

Surprise showed clearly on Spyro's face, "Why don't you ask Flame to go with you?"

Her blush deepened, much to his surprise, "He…he wouldn't want to. Would you, Spyro?"

The purple dragon hesitated, looking behind to silently ask Sparx his opinion, but the yellow dragonfly merely shrugged his tiny shoulders. Spyro sighed inwardly. He'd already planned to find out where Cynder's room was and ask _her_ to take a walk with him, but he felt like it would be rude to refuse Ember's request, especially when she had asked so nicely. So, with a little reluctance, Spyro accepted.

"All right," he smiled, "I'll show you around the city, but just for a little while. I'm kind of hungry."

Ember's face lit up like a spirit gem, "You will? Oh, thank you!"

Practically bouncing on her heels, Ember followed Spyro out into the streets of the city. Sparx hesitated for a moment and decided instead to head for Cynder's room, a little voice in his head telling him that the black dragoness may want to know about this. The dragonfly was a natural snoop and had already figured out where Cynder's room was. He found her lying on her balcony, soaking up the morning sun as it reflected off her black scales. Cynder looked up when Sparx hovered towards her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"What?" Sparx asked, feigning offence. "Can't a dragonfly visit his she-dragon friend once in a while?"

"I don't see why you'd want to," Cynder muttered dryly. "Spit it out, Sparx, what's up?"

"Alright, alright," Sparx sighed, "You got me. I just thought you'd want to know…"

"What?"

"Ember popped up outside Spyro's room and he's agreed to take her for a walk," Sparx shrugged. "Don't know why, but I thought you'd wanna know."

A frowned etched its way onto Cynder's face, "Ember? Why would Spyro take her for a walk?"

"Look, I'm just the messenger," Sparx insisted, holding his hands up defensively. "She asked, he agreed, that's that. Okay?"

Cynder's frown didn't disappear, "Well, okay…"

She clambered to her feet, stretching like a cat and yawning wide, before turning for the door. Sparx hovered after her, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Hey, where are you going?" the dragonfly called after her.

"To find Spyro," Cynder replied, knocking one of her red cushions out of her way.

She paused just as she reached the door and looked back at Sparx, "Thanks for telling me, Sparx."

"Any time," Sparx replied, slightly confused, waving as she left the room.

Cynder left Sparx alone in her room without a second thought as she dashed off to find the purple dragon. She wasn't sure exactly where he could be, but knew that he couldn't have gone too far from his room yet. At least, that was what she hoped, as she headed for Spyro's room without stopping to think. All she knew was that she wanted to keep that pink dragoness away from him. She wasn't the only one thinking that.

Up on his own balcony, a couple of buildings away from Cynder's room, Flame was woken by the sound of voices below him. Aggravating at being woken from his slumber, Flame cracked open one golden eye and gazed around the balcony for the source of the voices. There was no one there, though, and he grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet.

Moving to the edge of the balcony, Flame looked down at the streets below. They were empty, except for a pair of young dragons talking and laughing together. Something was familiar about them, thought Flame, still half asleep. It was the colour of their scales that made him finally realise what he was seeing.

Ember and Spyro were walking together, talking and laughing together, as though they'd been friends for life. Instantly a variety of emotions rose within Flame's chest, but the one that was most prominent was rage. Anger filled his entire being, spreading throughout his body as his muscles tensed subconsciously and smoke began to pour from his nostrils.

He spread his golden wings, determined to fly down there and give Spyro a piece of his mind, but his thoughts were interrupted as the two dragons took to the sky and winged away. He hadn't expected them to leave so suddenly and he sat, slightly stunned, for a moment before his anger returned. Without a second thought, he leapt from his balcony and soared after them.

Cynder was standing on Spyro's empty balcony when she saw the red dragon take flight a little way away. If Flame was going anywhere, Cynder surmised it would be to go after Spyro and Ember. Sure that he was her best bet for finding Spyro, Cynder took to the air and flew after him.

Spyro and Ember were heading for the main courtyard, situated near the gardens at the centre of the city. The purple dragon wasn't exactly sure where Ember wanted him to take her, so he decided to take her to see the courtyard and the gardens, unaware that she'd already explored the gardens just the other day with Flame. He was completely unaware that, at that moment, both Flame and Cynder were separately following them. Ember, however, kept looking behind her as though she knew or suspected that someone was following.

"That's the courtyard down there," Spyro called, pointing to the large empty space surrounded by miniature gardens. From in the air, the stones of the courtyard seemed to flow into swirling, spiralling patterns.

Ember followed close as Spyro landed in the courtyard, gazing around at their surroundings. There was a large stage at one end of the courtyard and behind it, rising far into the sky, was the main bell tower. The purple dragon shrugged.

"It's not much. This is just where we hold meetings," he told her. "Well, that's what Terrador said anyway. I think the Atrium is used for that sort of stuff as well. You'd probably find the gardens more interesting…"

"Oh, it's alright," Ember smiled, who didn't seem to notice her surroundings at all, "I've seen the gardens."

The pink dragoness gazed around the courtyard, her eyes raking the sky as though expecting something to happen. Spyro heaved a sigh and wished he were with Cynder instead. He wasn't even sure why Ember had wanted to walk with him. She didn't seem remotely interested in the city at all. And where had Sparx gone?

The sound of flapping wings reached his ears, catching his attention and causing him to gaze skyward.

"Look," Ember called, pointing, "is that Flame?"

Spyro stared closer, trying to make out the colour of the dragon's scales. As he came closer, Spyro saw that it was indeed Flame. Spyro's muscles clenched for action. If his past encounters with the red dragon were anything to judge by, things were about to get a little messy. He was startled, however, by the sound of a dragon landing behind him.

Cynder had spotted Ember and Spyro as they headed for the courtyard and had circled around from the back. Being a much faster flier than Flame, the black dragoness had reached them first. Spyro spun around when she alighted behind him, startled at being snuck up on. She stared accusingly at him and flashed Ember a swift glare.

"I was looking for you," she told the purple dragon.

Spyro instantly looked uncomfortable, "Y-You were? I just…Ember asked me to go for a walk. I…didn't want to refuse."

"Oh?" Cynder shifted her gaze to the pink dragoness. "I see."

An uncomfortable silence fell, broken only when Flame landed heavily behind them. Cynder saw instantly the ferocity in his eyes and decided her best course of action was to get Spyro away. She hurried to his side and extended a wing over his shoulders.

"Come on, Spyro," Cynder insisted. "Let's head back to the main hall."

"Cynder?" the purple dragon blinked in confusion, but she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Hold it," Flame snarled as the two dragons attempted to walk away, "There's something I need to say to you, Spyro."

Fear found its way into Ember's expression and she hurried to Flame's side, attempting to dissuade him, "Come on, Flame, we should head for the hall, too. You must be hungry."

"Not yet," Flame growled, brushing her aside. "Spyro!"

Spyro pushed away from Cynder's wing and turned to face the red dragon, ready in case he tried to attack. But Flame made no move to start a physical argument. Instead, he attacked Spyro verbally.

"I said it before," the red dragon growled, "stay away from Ember! Don't talk to her, don't look at her, don't come anywhere near her, you got that?"

"That hardly seems fair," Spyro retorted, his anger rising, "to both me and Ember. Perhaps we want to be friends, did that thought ever cross your mind?"

Flame trembled with what could only be rage. He turned his scowl on Ember and forcibly ordered her to leave. She hesitated at first, until Spyro convinced Cynder to take the pink dragoness to the main hall, saying he'd catch up. The black dragoness hesitated, but knew she'd be no help in an argument between the two males. When the girls had left, Flame made no attempt to restrain his anger.

"Listen, purple freak," he hissed, circling Spyro like a shark, "Ember is _my _friend. She's been my friend ever since we were hatchlings and it's going to stay that way. No dragon like yourself—even if think you're better than everyone else with your _purple_ _scales_—no dragon like you is going to take her away from me! You got that?"

Spyro snorted, glaring as Flame halted his circling and stood in front of him, "Say want you want, Flame, but even if I agree, you can't stop Ember from trying to be friends with me. I'm not interested in 'taking her away from you', but I'm not going to ignore her just because of your selfishness and jealousy. What you need, Flame, is to wake up and stop thinking about only yourself for once. Now if you'll excuse me, I think Cynder's waiting for me."

With that said, Spyro took flight and headed for the main hall. Flame stood in the courtyard for a while, glaring after the purple dragon as he mulled over his words. At last, after what seemed like hours, the red dragon vacated the courtyard and followed the others to the main hall.

What both he and Spyro didn't realise, however, was that Spyro's words couldn't be truer. Even if Spyro did try to ignore Ember, there was no stopping her from pursuing a friendship with him.

* * *

"Thasos, can I talk with you?" Terrador asked the orange dragon, pulling him away from the crowd.

Thasos turned towards the Earth Guardian, surprised, "Of course, Terrador. But what for?"

Terrador gazed at the faces of several dragons as they turned to look at him, waiting for an answer. It was midday and many of the dragons had gathered in the hall for lunch. The Earth Guardian turned his gaze back to Thasos.

"In private," he said, quite seriously, intriguing both Thasos and the crowd around him.

The orange dragon considered it for a moment and finally nodded, "Very well."

Terrador guided Thasos out of the main hall and began heading towards the Atrium at a swift pace. The orange dragon hurried to keep up with him, slightly confused.

"Where are we going?" he asked, curious.

"Somewhere where we won't be interrupted," Terrador replied gruffly, not stopping and saying nothing more.

Thasos shrugged to himself and quickly fell into step beside the Earth Guardian. Through the streets, under archways and beneath balconies, the two dragons hurried. At last Terrador slowed to a stop, in an open hallway not far from the Atrium. There were no dragons around, although Terrador made sure to check first, and Thasos stood wondering just what it was he wanted. The Earth Guardian fixed him with a solemn look and Thasos felt nerves spring up in his stomach.

"Hear me out, Thasos," Terrador ordered, "although you may be a little shocked by what I'm about to ask."

Thasos stared, bewildered, "Ask away, Terrador. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

The green dragon looked around carefully again, until he was absolutely sure that no one was watching. He turned his green eyes on Thasos once more and spoke, quite clearly.

"I want you to consider the position of Fire Guardian."

* * *

Spyro and Cynder had spent the rest of the morning walking in the gardens, both deciding to ignore what had happened with Ember and Flame. The black dragoness was still jealous and concerned that she may have unexpected competition in her race to win Spyro's heart. She was determined, however, to be the winner no matter what. What she didn't realise, though, was that she had already won. Only, Spyro was too shy to say it.

Reminiscing in past memories together, the two dragons hadn't realised they'd strayed from the gardens and were heading towards the atrium until Cynder spotted the two older dragons. They were standing under an open hallway and Terrador was looking very edgy, as though he was afraid that someone was spying on him. She nudged Spyro and pointed them out.

"Look, it's Terrador and Thasos," she murmured, "What do you think they're doing?"

The purple dragon looked up, surprised, "Who knows? Let's go ask them. C'mon, Cynder."

"Hey, wait up!" Cynder called as Spyro cantered away from her.

Spyro approached the two older dragons slowly and came to a halt. Something inside him was telling him not to interrupt this conversation, to hide and listen to what they were saying. Perhaps it was the edgy look in Terrador's eyes, or the bewilderment in Thasos' expression, but something intrigued the purple dragon. He slipped around the corner of a nearby building, beckoned to Cynder, and strained to listen to what they were saying.

Cynder slid to his side, raising an eyebrow questioningly, but he made a hushing sound and she remained silent. Together, the two young dragons eavesdropped on their elders.

"…can't do that, Terrador!" Thasos was saying, sounding both surprised and somewhat grieved, "I can't possibly…"

"You are the best dragon for it," Terrador insisted, "and it wont be permanent. Just until we train a new generation to take on the mantel. It's only an unofficial title."

"But I haven't had the training!" Thasos insisted. "I wasn't chosen as the apprentice and I don't deserve that title!"

Spyro felt a heavy weight descend in his gut as he listened, realisation of what they were talking about beginning to dawn on him. He pressed against the wall, listening harder.

"You've had more than enough training, Thasos," Terrador countered, not taking no for an answer. "You've lived through the entire war. And if you've managed to train Flame this well without having undergone the training yourself, I think you deserve to bear the title of unofficial Fire Guardian!"

Thasos hesitated, "I…I've always wanted to become the Fire Guardian. But…that position belongs to Ignitus, not me, how can I…?"

"Ignitus has passed," Terrador sighed, "and we cannot continue without a Fire Guardian. We need someone who can train the next generation. If and when the third search party returns, there may be younger dragons that will need training to become the next guardians. And we need a Guardian of Fire to help train them! With Ignitus gone, you are our best hope to take up his position."

"I suppose, Terrador, if you put it that way—" Thasos sighed, finally giving in, but Spyro didn't hear any more.

The purple dragon felt the weight that had settled in his stomach harden as both horror and anger filled his veins. He felt both hot and cold at the same time and his limbs trembled as though he'd just run a thousand miles without stopping. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it himself and was sure that Cynder could hear it too. Without thinking twice, Spyro sprang out of hiding, surprising the two elders.

"You can't _replace _Ignitus!" he yelled, the words tearing themselves from his throat before he had a chance to realise what he was saying. "No one can simply _replace _him like that!"

Terrador turned in shock, surprised that the young dragon had sprung seemingly out of nowhere, "Spyro! What are you doing here? Were you listening?"

But Spyro didn't seem to hear him, "What do you think you're doing, conspiring to replace Ignitus? No one could be the Fire Guardian like he was, no one! Not even you!"

Thasos took a step back, surprised at the anger in the purple dragon's voice. Spyro was yelling at him without thinking, his judgement clouded by anger and grief.

"You claim to have been his best friend!" Spyro yelled, his voice catching. "But you can't even hope to measure up to what he was! Ignitus was like a father to me! He was the greatest Fire Guardian there ever was, and no one can possibly replace that! How can you stand here and talk about him as though he was just a column that crumbled and needs to be replaced? How can you stand here and even consider that you could take over from him, when you know yourself that no one could possibly be the guardian that he was?"

Hot tears began to stream from his eyes, unnoticed by him as he glared heatedly at the two elder dragons. Cynder cowered behind him, shocked by his sudden ferocity and wishing to comfort him, but afraid that he would reject her. A pained look had entered Terrador's expression, but he didn't tear his gaze away from Spyro. Thasos, however, turned his eyes to the ground in shame. Spyro clenched his paws, his claws scraping against the cobblestones.

"How can you even think about that?" he screeched, his tears pattering the ground. "Answer me!"

Terrador swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly approached the young purple dragon, "Calm down, Spyro, it's alright. We're not trying to replace Ignitus. We just want to find someone who can fill in as a temporary Guardian until we can train another to become Fire Guardian. No one is trying to replace Ignitus and no one will ever be able to replace him, I understand that. Thasos isn't trying to replace who his best friend was. But this is a job that we need someone to fill and he's the best dragon for it."

Spyro shook his head furiously, sending tears flying, "No! I don't believe that! No one is going to become Fire Guardian! That was Ignitus's job and it will always be his job! _He _can't become Fire Guardian, he just can't! _I won't let you replace Ignitus!_"

"Spyro!" Cynder cried, as the purple dragon yelled at Terrador with as much anger as he could muster.

The Earth Guardian stepped back, unable to find anything to say to calm the young dragon down. Thasos said nothing, trembling with sorrow and shame as he stared at the ground. Cynder closed the gap between her and Spyro with a single bound, knocking him over and pinning him beneath her, startling him. He struggled to get up, but Cynder held him fast, pinning his wings beneath her paws.

"Spyro!" she cried. "Stop this! Just stop and listen to me!"

Tears streamed down his muzzle and he stopped struggling, his chest heaving as he sobbed. Cynder stared into his tear-filled eyes and felt her heart ache to see him in such pain, her own eyes watering.

"Just stop," she begged, trembling, and nuzzled beneath his chin, "please."

Spyro lay for a while, blinking away the tears in his eyes as he suddenly realised he had been crying, coming back to his senses. Cynder lay against his chest, her own tears rolling onto his scales. Shame filled him and he raised his paw to stroke the scales along her neck.

"Cynder," he murmured, his voice still quivering, "I'm sorry. I just got…carried away. I just don't want them to…replace Ignitus."

"I know, Spyro, I know," Cynder whispered, muffled against his chest, "but that's not what they're trying to do. They just need another guardian to fill in for him. No one is trying to replace who he was; no one can ever do that. You have to understand, Spyro, just because he was the Fire Guardian…it doesn't mean that no one can ever become Fire Guardian again. Life goes on and he's already come to the end of his time. He'll always live on in our hearts but…we have to move on, too."

She crawled away from him, blinking away tears. He got up slowly, brushing tears from his muzzle, and managed a small smile.

"I know, Cynder," he replied, bowing his head, "I understand. Terrador, Thasos, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say such horrible things. I know you're not trying to replace Ignitus."

Terrador let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Spyro. I apologise for not telling you, but I was unsure whether Thasos would accept or not. I hadn't meant for you to find out like this. Forgive me."

Spyro shook his head, "It's alright. I understand that you need a new Fire Guardian. And Thasos…"

The orange dragon looked up, shame still prominent in his expression. Spyro smiled apologetically at him.

"For what it's worth," the purple dragon said, "I think you'd make a great Fire Guardian."

If there was anything said that day that made Thasos make up his mind to accept the title, it was those words from the purple dragon.

* * *

Days merged into weeks as the dragon city fell into a rhythm of peaceful life. Spyro had never known such a life, where every day wasn't a struggle to survive and he could spend his hours walking the gardens with Cynder. But even as the peace set in, new challenges he'd never experienced before began to arise. His feelings for Cynder seemed to strengthen by the day and yet he couldn't find a way to express them to her. His relationship with Flame was worse than ever, to the point that he'd almost attack upon sight.

And making that worse was Ember.

The pink dragoness seemed to be everywhere he went, hanging on his tail and never leaving him alone. She was there when he wanted time alone with Cynder, and whenever he went down to the hall for mealtimes. He had noticed, too, that when Flame was around she stuck to him all the more, like one of those annoying grove mites. Not only did it aggravate Flame, but it made Cynder terribly jealous and Spyro could barely handle it anymore.

The news that Thasos would be filling in as the unofficial Fire Guardian was received well by the rest of the dragons, much to Terrador's relief. Not only that, but Spyro had heard that Seriphos had been officially appointed to the title of Captain of the Guard, a guard which, unfortunately, didn't exist as of yet.

With renovations to the damaged parts of the city coming along nicely, everything in Warfang seemed to have finally settled down. Spyro had almost forgotten about the yet-to-return third search party. That, however, was about to change.

Spyro had just managed to shake off Ember after training and had snuck away with Cynder, leaving Sparx to distract the pink dragoness, which the dragonfly did so surprisingly willingly. Laughing together, the two young dragons scampered towards the gardens, racing each other to see who could get there first. Spyro had just caught sight of the white-blossom tree in the gardens and picked up his pace, Cynder hard on his tail, when the sound of voices stopped him in his tracks.

He skidded to a halt, beckoned to Cynder, and crept over to the nearby building. He poked his head around the corner to see the four guardians, including Thasos, walking slowly in the opposite direction.

The guardians were talking in hushed, urgent voices, and Spyro strained to hear what they were saying.

"It's been two weeks, Terrador!" Volteer was saying. "And they have yet to return!"

"I know, I know," the Earth Guardian replied, "I hadn't expected them to have been gone so long."

"It is most unusual," Cyril agreed, shaking his head, "perhaps they have gotten lost?"

"Preposterous," Terrador disagreed, "I've never known a dragon to get lost coming back to Warfang. I had expected them to send back a scout at least to tell us of their whereabouts, but we have heard nothing."

Spyro's eyes widened in realisation and he nudged Cynder, "They're talking about the other search party!"

Cynder nodded quickly, her eyes equally as wide, and they continued to listen. Thasos was speaking now.

"Perhaps something has befallen them," Thasos suggested, shrugging, "we have no way of knowing if there are any of our enemies left over from the war, still living in groups, in hiding, waiting to attack any unsuspecting dragons."

"That's a possibility that I'd have hoped to rule out," Terrador sighed, shaking his head, "but I fear you are right. Something horrible may indeed have befallen Feldun and his search party."

Cyril and Volteer exchanged anxious glances.

"What do you propose we do?" the Ice Guardian asked, hoping that Terrador had the answer.

Terrador looked at each of his fellow guardians and heaved a sigh.

"What do you think, Volteer?" the Earth Guardian asked, relying on the Electricity Guardian's quick thinking.

"Perhaps we ought to send out a scout group to locate them?" Volteer suggested, the answer rolling off his tongue with ease. Sometimes his quick thinking surprised even himself.

"I'd agree with that," Thasos nodded, "Seriphos should be able to lead a small group out to find this missing search party. What do you think, Terrador?"

The Earth Guardian mulled it over for a while, his brow furrowed as he thought. Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances and edged closer, sticking close to the wall to avoid being seen. Terrador nodded slowly.

"Alright, it seems we have no other choice," the Earth Guardian sighed. "If something has indeed befallen our comrades, we cannot afford to waste time. Thasos, find Seriphos and ask him if he will comply. Volteer, Cyril, we will gather a small group to help find them."

"And what of the young ones?" Volteer questioned, suddenly. Spyro and Cynder leaned in closer, listening.

Terrador paused, thinking, until he replied, "Spyro and Cynder have had enough to deal with lately. I don't want to worry them. We can do this without having to trouble them."

"So you're planning to hide this from us?"

The guardians emitted synchronised gasps as they spun around to face the two young dragons they had just spoken of. Spyro stood calmly staring at them, although it had been in annoyance that he had confronted them. Cynder stood beside them, her green eyes hard and accusing. Volteer spluttered in surprise, while Cyril and Thasos stood looking shocked.

"S-Spyro!" Terrador stuttered, sheepishly, "…You heard?"

"Every word," Spyro replied, a slight edge to his voice, "and so did Cynder."

The Guardians exchanged anxious glances, their plans to keep this news hidden from the young dragons now completely ruined. Cynder swished her tail in agitation.

"You wanted to keep this hidden from us, didn't you?" she accused, irritated.

"I…well," Volteer seemed to have lost his voice for once and looked to Terrador for help. The Earth Guardian only stared helplessly at the purple dragon.

"Tell us," Spyro ordered, with more authority than he intended, "everything you know about what's happened to the third search party."

**A/N: Chapter 10! And over 100 pages on Microsoft Word...I write too much. Thank you, thank you for all of the reviews! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. ^.^**


	11. Sneaking Out

**11. Sneaking Out**

Spyro paced backwards and forwards across the cold Atrium floor, his brow furrowed in thought. The Guardians watched him anxiously, waiting for his reaction to what they had just told him. Terrador had led them to the Atrium to be sure they weren't overheard, worried that the news might spread panic throughout the city. Cynder watched Spyro as he paced, curled up on the floor opposite the Guardians.

"So let me get this straight," Spyro spoke, continuing his pacing without looking at the guardians. "Feldun and his search party have been gone two weeks and you've heard no word from them? You expected them to be back within the week and began suspecting that something was wrong about a week ago, right? However, you decided to keep that information from Cynder and I. Why? Didn't you think we'd want to know?"

The purple dragon stopped his pacing and stared hard at the four guardians, his anger barely kept in check, "Didn't you think that we _deserved _to know?"

Behind him, Cynder snorted in agreement. Terrador heaved a sigh as the other guardians exchanged shamed glances. Desperately, the Earth Guardian searched for an excuse, for a reason why he had decided to keep something so dire from the purple dragon.

"Listen to me, Spyro," he begged helplessly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to worry. You are still so young and you deserve to live a life without everyone's cares rested on your shoulders. You've done so much for us. Just let me, let _us_," he gestured at the other guardians, "deal with this. We may be old, but we are not useless."

Spyro's shoulders relaxed as he let go of his anger, sighing out a puff of pale smoke. He shook his head slowly and fixed Terrador with an exasperated look.

"I understand you don't want me to have to act as this world's hero forever, but," he drew a deep breath, "I am the _purple _dragon. Whether I want to or not, I am destined to protect this world. Wasn't that what the prophecy stated? Or were you expecting me to die after I freed the world from Malefor? Did you think that once I destroyed the Dark Master, my duty to this world would be over? I have protected this world, ended the war that has plagued us for so long, and even pulled the world back together when it crumbled. But, there's still so much to do. And, as the purple dragon, I am the one who has to protect this world. I was born to hold the cares of the world on my shoulders, wasn't I?"

Cynder stared in awe at the purple dragon standing before her. His very scales seemed to radiate with light, his head held high with a sort of pride that she'd never seen before. The guardians could only stare at the young dragon, filled with admiration. Never had any of them heard Spyro speak like this. Terrador looked long and hard at the purple dragon, whose own violet eyes stared back at him with determination and pride.

"The purple dragon of the prophecy," the earth guardian sighed, "how foolish to think that I could forget such a thing. The prophecy never foretold what would happen to the purple dragon, if it were ever fulfilled. But, Spyro, you must know that the prophecy was very vague. It spoke of a purple dragon who would bring peace to the world, but that did not necessarily mean you, Spyro."

Terrador's eyes were solemn, "Had you failed to fulfil the prophecy, Spyro, if you had died or turned to darkness, like Malefor, then the prophecy would wait for another purple dragon to be born. And if that purple dragon failed…then the cycle would continue until the prophecy was fulfilled. Spyro, the reason why you are the saviour of this world, is because you chose to fulfil the prophecy, not because the prophecy chose you."

"Let's not forget, Terrador," Cyril added, "that it is easy enough to misinterpret the meaning of a prophecy. Perhaps the prophecy meant for this world to be destroyed, to create a new world of peace. Perhaps Malefor was the prophesised dragon and not Spyro? Perhaps he was meant to destroy this world and craft a new one."

"Very true, very true," Volteer agreed, "fortune-telling is a very imprecise practice. Truly, it is the one who fulfils the prophecy who decides what the prophecy was foretelling."

"Spyro chose to bring peace to _this _world, through the death of Malefor, because that was how he interpreted the prophecy," Thasos nodded. "Had he decided to join Malefor, to destroy this world and craft a new world of peace, the prophecy would have been fulfilled differently. Perhaps we may be correct in thinking that Spyro and Malefor were both the purple dragon that the prophecy spoke of, who somehow managed to cross paths in their attempt to fulfil it. And yet they interpreted it differently and ultimately the stronger of the two won and fulfilled the prophecy in his vision."

Spyro's head spun as he attempted to keep up with what they were saying. It hardly made any sense to him and left him feeling quite confused. However, their words brought up a memory that Spyro had almost forgotten; something that Malefor had said to him.

"The destiny of the purple dragon," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, "was to summon the Destroyer and end this world, to begin a new world and a new age…Was Malefor lying? Or was he telling what he thought to be the truth? Could _he _have been the purple dragon the prophecy spoke of? Was I not supposed to stop him?"

His own voice suddenly came back to him and he heard it as clear as day, the words he had yelled at Malefor.

'_No! I don't believe that!_'

He was right, he didn't believe it then and he didn't believe it now. But the very thought that the prophecy could have occurred either way was enough to make his scales curl.

"But we've gone off track," Terrador's voice brought him back to reality. "The prophecy was fulfilled by Spyro and this is the outcome. Let us not think on what _could_ have happened. Spyro is, and remains, the saviour of the world. We guardians seem to have failed to acknowledge that… Forgive us, Spyro."

For a moment Spyro said nothing, his eyes staring blankly at the ground as he attempted to get his head around all that had just been said. Cynder stood up slowly and slunk hesitantly to his side, nudging him, concerned.

"Spyro?" she asked. "You okay?"

Spyro's head shot up quickly, his expression startled, as though he hadn't realised he'd been drifting off. Noticing that Cynder and the Guardians were all staring at him anxiously, the purple dragon quickly stuttered an excuse.

"I-I'm fine!" he gasped, flashing a forced grin. "I was just…thinking."

"All of this prophecy stuff goes straight over my head," sighed a voice, before anyone could say anything else. "Don't think about it too much, Spyro buddy, you'll hurt your head."

Sparx grinned as the dragons all turned to look at him. He spread his arms and shrugged.

"What? You can't expect me to spend all day entertaining that pink dragoness, can you? Whatcha all doing in here, anyway?"

Terrador stared sternly at the dragonfly, "How much did you hear?"

Sparx raised an eyebrow, "Something secretive, is it now? All I heard was some crazy prophecy talk. Everyone knows Spyro's the special once in a purple thing, so what's the confusion? And why are you hiding out in here?"

Spyro shook his head, smiling, "Don't think too much about the prophecy, Sparx, you might hurt your head. That wasn't what we came here to talk about, anyway."

The dragonfly ignored the fact that Spyro had turned his own words against him and folded his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, then what are you in here for?"

Spyro looked up to the guardians, "Can I tell him?"

"As long as he doesn't blab to anyone," Cyril replied, glaring at the dragonfly. "We don't want him spreading panic around the city, do we?"

"I don't blab," Sparx argued indignantly, but his words were ignored.

"Listen, Sparx," Spyro sighed. "There's a big problem going on and you can't tell anyone in the city…at least, not yet. Like Cyril said, we don't want anyone to panic."

"So, what is it?"

"The third search party," Cynder explained, before Spyro could speak, "they've gone missing."

"We think something bad might have happened to them," Spyro added, his expression anxious.

Sparx stared at them, shifted his gaze to the guardians for a brief instant, and then stared at Spyro and Cynder again. They waited tensely for his reaction. Suddenly the dragonfly let out a noise of disbelief.

"Pfft," he laughed, waving a hand. "You guys are always assuming the worst. What '_bad_'could they have run into, huh? The war's over, remember? The big evil dragon is gone, dead! You've saved the world, man! Enough with the doom and despair, they've probably just gotten lost!"

"We all wish that you were right, Sparx," Terrador sighed, "but it isn't that simple. Malefor may be gone, as are the apes that once served him, but we have no way of knowing if some of his army survived and if they are still hostile. This world will not be completely freed from danger by the death of one dragon, no matter how influential he was. You mustn't let your guard down, none of us should."

Sparx faltered, his hand falling limply to his side, "So…you're saying that there's still evil monsters that want us dead wandering around out there? Oh man, I knew I should have stayed in the swamp."

Spyro sighed, part of him agreeing with Sparx. He turned his gaze to Terrador, willing up the last of his determination.

"What should we do?" He asked, already half-knowing the answer.

The guardians stared down at him and answered together, "We have to find them."

Cynder half-grinned, caught somewhere between amused and irritated, "I thought you'd say that."

Thasos looked anxiously at the two young dragons, "Cynder, Spyro, no one is forcing you to take part in this search…"

"I know," Spyro said quickly and Cynder nodded in agreement. "But it wouldn't feel right if we didn't help. We'll take a small group and find the missing search party, I promise. You don't have to worry."

One look at their determined faces and the guardians knew there was no arguing with the two young dragons. Sparx folded his arms, pondered for a moment, and then stated that there was no way they'd be leaving him behind. Terrador stared hard at the trio and finally let out a resigned sigh.

"Very well, you three. I can see there's no arguing with you. Follow me to the western courtyard. Thasos, bring Seriphos. Volteer, Cyril, gather a few reliable dragons to assist, but tell only them. I don't want panic spreading throughout the city. Quickly now. Be at the courtyard within half of an hour and try not to bring attention to yourselves."

* * *

Not more than twenty minutes later, ten dragons and one dragonfly were standing in the centre of the western courtyard. Delos, Naxos and Chios stood beside Seriphos; the former pair occasionally shooting glares at one another. Thasos, Volteer and Cyril had run into the four dragons moments after exiting the Atrium. Although Thasos had tried to extract Seriphos from them to ask him in private, the other three had eagerly insisted to know what was going on. When Seriphos agreed to the plan, the other three had insisted on going too. Cyril and Volteer had caved in. After all, it saved them from having to wander around the city to find suitable dragons to assist in the search.

Spyro and Cynder weren't bothered by having those four along for the ride. In fact, Spyro was quite pleased. He'd grown to like Seriphos and Naxos and knew that Cynder was on good terms with Chios. As for Delos, he'd never really talked to the red dragon. Spyro just hoped he wasn't as hotheaded as Flame.

Terrador looked them over with a stern, calculating eye, causing Chios to shift uncomfortably. But after a moment, the Earth Guardian gave a nod of approval and the three dragons relaxed.

"You believe you are up to this?" Terrador asked, and all three nodded in confirmation, "Very well, you shall accompany Seriphos, Spyro and Cynder on this search."

Naxos whooped in excitement, slapping Delos in the back of the head with his tailblade. Whether he did it on purpose or not, Spyro couldn't tell, but he couldn't help but chuckle when the red dragon snapped at him.

"Quit it!" Delos snarled, baring his fangs.

"What?" Naxos grinned. "Don't blame me, my tail has a mind of its own!"

"I could solve that problem by cutting it off," Delos snapped, raising his lethal claws.

Chios forced herself between them, wrapped her wings around their heads and pulled them close to her.

"Many problems could be solved by cutting off your heads, boys," she said thoughtfully and then gave an exaggerated sigh, "but then who would I have to keep me company?"

Naxos grinned widely, flashing brilliant white teeth, as Delos rolled his eyes and emitted a puff of smoke. Terrador glared at them and nudged Cyril.

"I expected you to bring more _experienced _dragons," he muttered, annoyance gracing his tone.

Cyril sniffed indignantly, "It wasn't _my_ decision, Terrador. Those three insisted and we couldn't shake them off. _I_ would have refused them, but Volteer—"

"Now, now, Cyril," Volteer chided, "let's not go blaming each other like immature hatchlings. What's done is done. I'm sure those three won't be too much hassle, right Seriphos?"

The green dragon gazed at the three dragons that would be accompanying him. Delos and Naxos were now attempting to snap at each other, while still pinned either side of Chios by her wide green wings. Sparx was chuckling to himself as he watched them, and even Spyro and Cynder were tittering at their antics. Seriphos couldn't help the smile that tugged at his mouth.

"No," he said. "They'll be no trouble at all."

The guardians exchanged dubious glances, but didn't argue. Terrador gazed up at the sky, where the sun was now edging down towards the horizon. It was about mid-afternoon and the Earth Guardian wanted them to leave before dark.

"Alright, now," he called, catching their attention. "It will be dark in a few hours. I want you to leave as soon as possible. I want you back by tomorrow afternoon, whether you find Feldun and his search party or not. We can't risk losing you, too."

'Understood," Seriphos nodded, "but first, where did you send this search party? We'll need to know where to look for them."

"Beyond the dam," Terrador said. "I told them to search the plateaus and forests beyond there, but what exactly you'll find there, I'm afraid I cannot say. Spyro knows the way to the dam. From there, I'm afraid you'll have to use your instincts. Spyro, Cynder, do you think you can lead the way to the dam?"

The two young dragons nodded, "Easy."

"Alright then," Terrador turned once more to look at the sun. "You had best leave straight away if you want time to search before nightfall. Now then, the six of you—"

"Seven," Sparx corrected, holding up a hand, "don't forget me!"

"Yes, the seven of you," Terrador nodded, "are to head straight to the dam, no detours. If you encounter any danger, I want you to head back here and report to us. If you find the missing search party—"

For the second time the Earth Guardian was interrupted, this time by something most unwelcome. The bushes to their left suddenly seemed to explode as two young dragons burst out of hiding, startling everyone and causing Sparx to give a great squeal of fright. Flame glared at the ten different faces that stared straight back at him, Ember crouched hesitantly behind him. Terrador's eyes widened in shock.

"What are you—?" he began, only to be cut off once more.

"We're going too," Flame growled.

It wasn't a question. For a moment the guardians would only stare in surprise, until it dawned on them just what the young dragon was demanding. Terrador glared down at them, his eyes like stone.

"I don't think so, young dragon," he growled sternly, "and definitely not when you demand it so forcefully."

"Have some respect," Cyril snorted, "you can't just barge in here and demand something. This is a private meeting!"

Flame's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, "A private meeting? Right here, in the open, where anyone can see you? I thought you guardians were idiots, but I didn't think you were _this _stupid. We heard the whole thing, didn't we, Ember?"

The pink dragoness nodded quickly, cowering under the stern glances of the guardians and glad that Flame was between her and them. Terrador didn't seem impressed.

"That, young dragons, is called eavesdropping!" Terrador growled, "Regardless of how secret a meeting this may be, you should never spy on your elders!"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged guilty glances, knowing that they'd already eavesdropped on the guardians more than once. Flame snorted in defiance.

"What does it matter?" he huffed. "The point is, we heard and we want to help, okay?"

Ember nodded quickly, backing him up, "That's right! We really would like to help and I'm sure we could be of some use! Please, Terrador, sir?"

The earth guardian hesitated as he gazed at her pleading face. He'd already made up his mind to refuse them, but somehow her pleading eyes made him waver. He turned his stern gaze on Thasos instead.

"What do you think, Thasos?"

The unofficial Fire Guardian hesitated and, although he hated refusing Ember when she looked so pleadingly at him, he shook his head.

"I don't think so, Terrador," he sighed, "Those two are too young and inexperienced for something like this. It could be dangerous and they don't know the land around here. I think it best that they stay here."

"Very well," Terrador agreed, "I would have said the same thing."

Flame seemed to swell with anger, his hackles rising and his wings unfurling as his red scales seemed to glow with fire. Ember took a hesitant step away from him, as though he was a volcano ready to blow. And that he was.

"That isn't _fair!_" He roared, so loud it almost rattled the scales of the dragons around him. "Why should _he _get to go and not me, huh?"

No one questioned whom he was talking about. They all knew that he meant Spyro, and the purple dragon stood his ground as Flame flashed him a dangerous glare.

"He's just as young as I am!" Flame roared, not bothering to keep his voice down. "So why should he get special privileges?"

"Spyro is no ordinary dragon," Terrador countered, raising his voice to combat Flame's. "He has had far more experience than most dragons in this city and far more than you! But this has nothing to do with Spyro! I cannot allow a young dragon such as you to put yourself in danger in unfamiliar territory! It is not safe and it is most definitely not wise, young dragon!"

"Don't speak about wisdom, old one!" Flame countered, snarling with anger. "You're lacking in it!"

"I will not have you speaking to the guardians like that!" Thasos roared, before Terrador could reply. "Grow some respect, Flame, and for the love of the ancestors _grow up_!"

The stones cracked as Flame slammed a burning fist into the ground and Ember stumbled back with a squeal of shock. Delos and Naxos yelled at the young dragon, angrily ordering him to get a grip. Spyro positioned himself in front of Cynder, tensing his shoulders for action.

"Don't tell me to grow up!" Flame yelled, fire licking at his jaws. "Don't start acting all pompous just because you've been given the title of _Fire Guardian_! You know you're not a real guardian, anyway! And you never will be! You got that, Thasos? You're not a real Fire Guardian and you've got no right to order me around!"

The words seemed to slap Thasos in the face and he sat looking stunned, unable to come up with a retort. Flame wasn't finished.

"We're going with them!" he roared. "Whether you want us to or not! And there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

"Flame…" Ember quivered, terrified by his anger.

"I'm not going to sit down and let you order me around!" Flame continued, ignoring the pink dragoness. "And I don't damn care about how _special _this purple freak is, he's still just a self-centred hatchling! So stop treating him better than everyone else!"

Cynder threw herself on Spyro as he attempted to leap at Flame, pinning him to the ground before he could reach the red dragon. Naxos and Delos went for him at the same time, furious at the way he had yelled at Thasos, only to be stopped as Chios planted herself firmly in front of them. Thasos said nothing, staring blankly at the ground as though he'd been slapped. Seriphos took a step forwards, the stones cracking beneath his paws, as the power of the earth element seemed to escape from him in his anger.

"ENOUGH!" Terrador's yell was so loud that it rattled everyone's bones and drowned out everything else.

As the echoes of his yell died away, everyone sat in silence with their ears still ringing from the noise. Cynder clambered off Spyro, shaking her head to clear the ringing, allowing the purple dragon to get back to his feet. Ember cowered on the ground and edged closer to Spyro, ignoring Cynder's glare. Terrador glared down at Flame with more anger than Spyro had ever seen in his eyes before.

"That is quite enough!" he boomed, furious. "Flame, Ember, neither of you will be leaving this city to help with this search. That is final! Flame, you should be ashamed of yourself, speaking in such a way to your elders!"

Flame snarled at him, "I'm not ashamed! And you can't stop me from going!"

"I think I can," Terrador replied, quivering with anger. "Volteer! You and Cyril will escort this young dragon to his room. Find two dragons to guard both his door and his balcony. He is not to leave his room until Seriphos and the others return tomorrow afternoon! Understood?"

"Understood, Terrador," the two guardians chimed together and positioned themselves either side of Flame.

Though the red dragon struggled, he was no match for the two larger dragons and was led forcibly back to his room. Terrador waited until they were gone before he gazed down at the pink dragoness trembling beside Spyro. He gazed sternly at her, causing her to quiver even more.

"I trust I don't have to imprison you in _your _room, Ember?" the earth guardian asked, to which she quickly shook her head. "Good. You must understand that for an inexperienced young dragon such as yourself, a trip like this would be far too dangerous. You are not to accompany them."

Ember nodded, bowing her head, "I understand."

"Good, you may go then."

The pink dragoness slunk away with her head down, giving Spyro one last helpless look, and disappeared around the corner. Terrador paused and considered the six dragons in front of him, all of whom were still shaking from the heated argument. He sighed and turned around to see Thasos still sitting there with a mournful look on his face, his brown eyes staring blankly at the ground. Terrador approached him carefully.

"Come now, Thasos," he coaxed. "Now is not the time to lose hope."

"He's right, though," the orange dragon sighed, still staring at the ground. "I'm not a real Fire Guardian and I never will be. Oh, how foolish a dragon I am to think otherwise…"

Spyro approached Thasos after a moment's hesitation, moving to Terrador's side.

"That's no way to think," the purple dragon scolded. "Ignitus wouldn't think like that, would he?"

Thasos raised his head in shock, surprised at Spyro's words. The purple dragon glared at him, although it felt a little odd to be scolding a dragon that was so much older than him.

"Remember why you are doing this," Spyro insisted. "It's to finish the job that Ignitus started. You are filling in for him because he cannot be here to do so. You were, and still are, his best friend. If anyone should take over the position of Fire Guardian, it is you. Regardless of whether the title is official or not, you are still the Fire Guardian. You can't afford to wallow in your own pity, when you have dragons who are counting on you to take on the role of guardian!"

"Y-You're right…" Thasos hesitated, "of course you're right."

Terrador interrupted, "Spyro, the afternoon wears on. You must leave straight away. Let me deal with Thasos, I'm sure he'll be fine. You need to get going."

Spyro hesitated, but nodded after a moment and turned to see if his comrades were ready. Naxos, Chios and Delos nodded in confirmation and Cynder supplied him with a strained sort of smile. Sparx offered a shaky thumbs-up, still quivering from the fight that had occurred not moments ago.

"We are ready, Master Terrador," Seriphos confirmed.

"Good," Terrador looked to the skies, where the sun was inching ever so slowly towards the horizon, "you'd best be off. Remember, be back tomorrow by evening whether you find them or not. If you encounter danger, return here immediately. I bid you safe passage. Good luck and… bring them home."

"Got it!" The six dragons roared at once, as Sparx punched the air.

"Let's go!" the dragonfly yelled eagerly.

"We'll be back soon, Terrador, Thasos," Spyro promised.

"I'm sure you will, Spyro."

There was no more hesitation. With eagerness and excitement filling their hearts, the seven companions leapt into the sky and headed towards adventure. Wherever this missing search party was, they were sure that they were going to find them. Terrador watched them as they flew towards the sky, Spyro and Cynder in the lead as the young dragons led the group towards the dam. Terrador could only hope they would find the missing search party. He could only hope that he was wrong and that danger had not found Feldun and his group. But one could never tell what lay beyond the protective walls of Warfang.

* * *

The instant Ember turned the corner, her timid demeanour seemed to vanish and she raised her head high with an annoyed look on her face. Flame had blown their chance at being allowed to go and she'd really wanted to. And now the hotheaded fool had got himself imprisoned in his own room for his actions. Ember had planned to sneak out after Spyro and the others if they'd been refused permission to go with them, but she wasn't about to leave without Flame. Puffing smoke in annoyance, Ember turned aggravated circles as she tried to think of what do to.

Gazing upwards, the pink dragoness beheld Spyro and the group flying into the sky and heading away from the city. They'd already left. Ember scowled. There was nothing for it, she would just have to find Flame and break him out of his room. Without stopping to think over her plan, Ember headed straight for Flame's room.

Cyril had ordered Sestos and Milos to stand guard outside Flame's room. Milos had been stationed outside his door, while Sestos sat stiffly on the balcony to ensure that Flame didn't escape out the back. The dark blue dragon sat swishing his tail backwards and forwards, listening as Flame rampaged around his room. A loud crash told him that Flame had knocked over the bookshelf and Sestos sighed as Flame's cursing reached his ears. He watched the sky as the dragons, led by Spyro, slowly became black dots in the distance and wondered where they were off to.

The blue dragon was just getting bored when a small pink dragoness landed beside him. He blinked and stared at her as she smiled sweetly at him.

"Hello, Sestos," Ember greeted, attempting to look innocent.

"Well, if it isn't young Ember," Sestos smiled, looking kindly down at her. "What can I do for you?"

"I wonder if you'd let me see Flame?" the pink dragoness asked, feigning shyness.

But Sestos shook his head apologetically, "Sorry, Ember, but I've got orders not to let anyone in or out of Flame's room until Seriphos and his group return. That includes you, unfortunately."

Ember's hopes fell a notch, but she wasn't about to give up so easily. Putting on her best innocent face, her expression as sweet as honey, she tried to reason with the blue dragon.

"Oh please, Sestos," she begged, blinking up at him with sparkling sky blue eyes, "only for a little while. It won't do any harm, I promise!"

Another crash echoed from the room and Sestos winced as Flame cursed and, from the sounds of it, charged the wall. He sighed and shook his head again.

"Sorry, Ember, but Flame seems to be doing plenty of harm on his own," Sestos shrugged. "I've got orders, kid, I can't let you in."

Annoyance rose within her and Ember gave a bad tempered pout, emitting a puff of smoke. Sestos couldn't help but chuckle at her expression.

"Fine," Ember sighed. "I'll just have to find something else to do. Thanks anyway, Sestos."

"Anytime, Ember," the blue dragoness called as Ember leapt off the balcony and soared away. "Sorry I can't help!"

Circling over the city, Ember noticed that Terrador and Thasos were still talking in the western courtyard. She flew over them, turned a wide circle, and then flew back to land not far from her own room, which wasn't far from Flame's. Beneath her own balcony, Ember began to pace. There had to be a way to get Flame out of his room without Sestos and Milos knowing. She knew that the balcony was her best bet. All she had to do was distract Sestos for long enough to get Flame away. And by the time he realised Flame was gone, the two of them would be long gone.

But how was she going to distract Sestos? Ember spent the better part of two hours thinking on that. After about half an hour she flew up to her balcony and lay there, pondering the problem as she watched the sun sink lower and lower. It was almost dark by the time Ember formed a plan that she hoped would work. It was a long shot, but she had to try. So, still formulating the plan in her head, Ember got up and leapt off her balcony.

Sestos was almost dozing off, watching the setting sun with a lazy eye as he wondered how long he'd have to wait here. The blue dragon blinked and turned his eyes to the city, gazing lazily at the orange light that was coming from the far garden. At first it didn't click in his mind, but suddenly Sestos realised just what he was seeing. There was fire in the gardens. The blue dragon leapt to his feet, for he had been curled up on the balcony, and stared hard at the steadily growing orange light. Suddenly the sound of wings caught his attention and a small pink dragoness landed in front of him.

"Sestos!" Ember cried, flustered. "Please help! I was practicing in the gardens when I accidentally set one of the bushes on fire! I don't know what to do! It'll destroy the gardens if we don't put it out! What do I do?"

"Calm down," Sestos ordered, as swiftly and kindly as he could, "I'll take care of it. You just head back to your room, okay, Ember? No visiting Flame, promise?"

Ember nodded quickly, her expression panicky, "Okay, I promise! Please, just do something about it before it gets out of control!"

Sestos smiled reassuringly, "Have no fear, Ember. Off you go to your room now."

The pink dragoness knew he was reluctant to leave while she was still there, so she gave him a quick smile and leapt off Flame's balcony, gliding towards her own. Sestos watched her until she had landed on her balcony and quickly leapt into the sky, heading for the glowing orange light in the gardens. Ember waited, watching as Sestos headed for the fire she had started, and made her move. As silent as the darkness itself, the pink dragoness leapt from her balcony and glided back to Flame's. She kept low and slunk into his room, which had long since fallen silent.

Flame cracked an eye open when he heard someone in his room and his head shot up in surprise when he saw who it was.

"Ember! What are you—?"

The pink dragoness jumped on him, clamping his mouth shut with a paw, shaking her head furiously.

"Hush!" she hissed, silencing him, "Milos might hear! I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to be quiet!"

Flame stared at her with wide golden eyes before giving a quick nod. Ember was about to speak again when the clack of claws on stone outside told her that Sestos had returned. As an ice dragon he must have put the fire out very quickly. Cursing softly, Ember leapt towards the orange cushions lined up along Flame's wall. They were covered with scratches and some of the stuffing inside was poking out, but they were good enough to hide a small pink dragoness. Leaping into them, Ember scrambled beneath the cushions and stayed as silent as possible.

Flame caught the drift and laid his head down on his paws, feigning sleep. Just as Ember suspected, Sestos poked his head around the curtain that covered the doorway into Flame's room from the balcony. The blue dragon glared around the room, checking to be sure that nothing had changed since he'd left. Flame cracked an eye open and glared at him.

"What?" he growled, lacing his tone with irritation.

Sestos glowered at him, "Merely checking, young dragon. Go back to sleep."

"Whatever," Flame growled, "not like I can do anything else."

The red dragon watched as Sestos removed his head from the room and moments later he whispered for Ember to come out. The pink dragoness poked her head out from under the cushions, looking around just to be sure, and saw that Flame had destroyed much of his room. The torn cushions were just a first.

The bookshelf had been tipped over, the books strewn all over the floor, some with their covers torn off and pages torn out. There were dints and scratches along the walls and even a burn mark or two. The chest that had been in the corner of his room was now tipped onto its side, its contents, consisting mostly of old battered armour, lying in a mess on the floor. Flame himself lay in the middle of the chaos, on top of a cushion that had been almost sheered in half by his sharp claws.

"You sure made a mess of this place," Ember muttered dryly, keeping her voice low, careful not to be heard.

"Shut it," Flame growled softly. "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Ember slunk to his side. "I'm going to get you out of here and we're going to go after Spyro and the others. Or don't you want to? Aren't you _brave _enough?"

Flame glared at her, "Of course I want to. I'm no coward. But how are you going to get us out of here. Sestos and Milos are guarding both exits. Unless you can turn us invisible, I fail to see—"

"Shush!" Ember hissed as Milos moved outside their door.

The two young dragons waited tensely until they were sure they had not been heard. Ember glared at her friend.

"Have some faith in me, Flame," she scolded, "I'll think of something. All we need to do is wait until Sestos falls asleep. He can't stay awake forever."

"_That's_ your plan?" Flame snorted, "And here I thought it would be something clever."

Ember merely rolled her eyes, "Sometimes the simplest plans are the best. Just sit tight, Flame. Sestos is old. He'll fall asleep in no time."

"Not as old as Thasos," Flame muttered, but said nothing else.

In silence the two young dragons waited, deciding not to talk in case they were heard. Ember stayed close to the balcony, listening for when Sestos would fall asleep. Flame laid his head upon his paws, bored, and almost fell asleep himself. Outside the sky became steadily darker as the sun sank below the horizon, casting Flame's room and its inhabitants into shadow. Ember sighed quietly and laid her head down on her paws, blinking furiously in an attempt to stay awake. The minutes crawled by as she sat in the darkness, listening as Sestos moved every once in a while. After a while she began to lose hope. There was no way Sestos would fall asleep before they did.

Suddenly, Ember heard Sestos stand up and quickly leapt into the pile of cushions, hiding herself just in time. The blue dragon poked his head into the room and stared at Flame for a while, who was almost asleep and looked as though he was. After a moment, Sestos pulled his head out of the room and Ember heard him take off from the balcony.

Hardly able to believe her luck, Ember crept to the doorway and hesitantly pushed the curtain aside. Sure enough, the balcony was empty. Quickly, the pink dragoness hurried to Flame's side, shaking him roughly.

"Quickly," she whispered urgently, "Let's go, Flame! Sestos is gone! This is our chance, come on!"

Flame growled in irritation and stood up slowly, stretching. Ember led him towards the door, shaking with eagerness, and he followed behind. The red dragon gazed around the balcony, confused and curious.

"Why'd he just leave?" Flame wondered aloud, before voices reached them from outside Flame's door across the room. The two young dragons froze.

"He's asleep," Sestos's voice said, "did Cyril say we have to watch him all night?"

"He wasn't clear on that," said Milos's voice. "Maybe we'd better stay, though, just in case."

"Alright," Sestos sighed, "but I don't see the point."

Ember's eyes widened in alarm as she realised that the blue dragon was coming back.

"Quickly!" she hissed, diving off the balcony with Flame hard on her tail.

The two young dragons flew as fast as they could away from Flame's room, diving low to hide in the shadows of the buildings. Ember came to a halt beneath an overhanging awning far from Flame's room and gazed back towards it. Sestos had just alighted back on Flame's balcony and had settled down to wait out the night. The pink dragoness breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't checked to see if Flame was still in there. She grinned triumphantly at Flame, who was looking much more alive now that he was free.

"Okay!" she grinned.

"Let's go," he grinned back and the two of them slunk through the shadows, keeping low to make sure that no one saw them.

It was only when they decided they were far enough away from Flame's room that the two of them took flight. Flame turned dubious eyes on his companion as a sudden thought hit him.

"Hey, Ember," he muttered, "Do you even know which way they went?"

The pink dragoness nodded, "I know, I saw them fly this way. Terrador said they were heading for the dam, right? I'm sure we'll be able to find it if we follow them."

"But they're long gone by now," Flame pointed out.

"I know," Ember sighed in exasperation, "But they'll have had to stop somewhere for the night. Come on, if we keep flying this way I'm sure we'll run into them. I just hope Seriphos doesn't try to send us back."

"He won't," Flame smirked, "he'll be too afraid that we'll get lost on our way back. Let's go, Ember!"

"Alright!"

Together the two young dragons flew into the darkness of the night sky, in the same direction that Spyro, Seriphos and their small group had gone a few hours before. Whatever was out there, neither of them knew, but that was part of the experience. Flame and Ember weren't about to sit back and let Spyro and Cynder have all the fun. But neither of the two realised just what they were flying into, or what the consequences of their actions would amount to.

**A/N: Quick update, shorter chapter. I've had this one planned for ages, so it's a relief to finally write it! I'd have gone longer, but I decided this was a good place to stop. I hope the whole 'prophecy' stuff doesn't confuse you too much. I'm getting really excited about this, finally getting into the main storyline! I've said it before, but I'll never stop appreciating them, so thank you for the reviews! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. ^.^**


	12. Grublins

**12. Grublins**

Although the sun sank long before they reached the dam, Spyro insisted they didn't stop until they reached it. Seriphos glared accusingly towards the west, where the last of the sun's rays had just disappeared below the horizon.

"It seems we left too late," the earth dragon sighed, beating his pale green wings faster. "Terrador wanted us to search beyond the dam before evening, but we haven't even reached it yet. We'll have to stop somewhere for the night and head for the dam tomorrow."

But Spyro didn't agree, "The sooner we get to the dam, the more time we'll have to search tomorrow. We'll spend the night _at _the dam and we'll have the whole day to search. Don't worry, it isn't too far now."

"If you say so, Spyro," Seriphos shrugged and said no more.

Spyro turned his tired gaze on the two dragons up front, lazily watching as they cut through the air together. Delos and Naxos had taken to racing one another and were well ahead of the others. Spyro had told them that as long as they continued to fly straight, they'd reach the dam. So, with no need for the purple dragon to lead the way, the two older dragons had commenced their race. Neither, however, seemed to have the advantage. For the majority they remained neck and neck, although each strained to be faster than the other. Spyro wasn't sure where they got their energy from, though he supposed they were no different than Sparx, who had managed to keep up with the racing dragons and was acting as a sort of referee.

Behind Spyro and Seriphos were the two females, Cynder and Chios, soaring beside each other as they conversed quietly. It pleased Spyro to see the black dragoness opening up to someone other than he, something which she hadn't done since he'd first saved her from Malefor. It was good to see her making friends with another dragoness, no matter the age difference, although Spyro couldn't help but feel a little jealous. How strange it felt to him, after growing up with only Sparx and Cynder for company, to suddenly find himself amongst other dragons. All of a sudden he realised Cynder didn't just belong to him anymore. But that didn't matter, he decided, as long as she was happy, as long as everyone accepted her for who she was rather than what she used to be.

"Oh, oh, the dam!" Sparx yelled from up front, catching the attention of the dragons behind as he pointed excitedly towards the great, white dam that had appeared on the horizon.

Instantly the two leading dragons sped up, stretching their necks out and narrowing their eyes against the wind. Delos glared at Naxos from the corner of his eye, straining his wings to their full extent.

"No way you're gonna beat me, Sparky," the red dragon claimed, gritting his teeth in a grin.

"Sparky, is it?" Naxos laughed back. "Alright then, Hot Stuff, show me what you've got!"

Delos faltered, his speed dropping from shock at the sound of the nickname Naxos had just bestowed on him, "_Hot Stuff_?"

Roaring with laughter at the look of shock on his rival's face, Naxos took his chance and shot ahead of the red dragon with Sparx just ahead of him. Delos emitted a roar of annoyance and quickly picked up his speed, shooting after the yellow dragon so fast he almost left an imprint of himself behind. Spyro picked up his pace, Seriphos at his side, at the sight of the dam. Vaguely he heard Delos yelling at his racing opponent as he attempted to catch up.

"I'll teach you for calling me Hot Stuff, you overcharged atom of a dragon! Just wait till I catch you!"

Spyro quickly lost sight of the two dragons as they raced into the darkness, their only guide the tiny glow from Sparx. Seriphos, Chios and Cynder followed the purple dragon as he dipped down towards the dam, following that glowing light of the yellow dragonfly. As the dragons approached, the outlines of Delos and Naxos came into view, illuminated in the dim light of the moons.

"Naxos wins!" Sparx could be heard yelling, throwing his arms in the air.

"Bullshit!" Delos replied, his voice loud and angry. "There's no way he beat me! You must be blind, mosquito!"

"Who are you calling mosquito?"

Naxos laughed loudly and threw a wing over Delos's shoulders, "Face it, Hot Stuff, I beat you."

Spyro and the others landed just as Delos threw himself on Naxos, roaring, "Don't call me that!"

The purple dragon gave them a worried look as they tumbled over each other, clawing and biting, but Seriphos merely shrugged and turned away. Obviously, this was normal for them. For once Chios didn't try to break them up. In fact, she stood on the sidelines and cheered them both on, much to Spyro's confusion. Seriphos ignored the fight behind him and gazed around at the dark surroundings, lit only by dim silvery moonlight, a frown on his face.

"It's very open here," he said, catching Spyro's attention. "We should find somewhere with more shelter."

"Easy," Cynder replied, coming up beside the two, "We'll head inside the dam, up there. This place should be completely empty, anyway."

Seriphos craned his head upwards, to the dark opening in the wall above that led within the dam, and nodded in agreement. Spyro, too, gazed upwards, noticing even in the darkness that the large dragonhead that he and Cynder had once knocked from the top of the dam had now been restored and the floodgates closed once more. Vaguely, he wondered if the moles were responsible for this.

"And Naxos wins again!" Sparx interrupted everyone with his yell.

Delos snapped at the yellow dragon as Naxos pinned him down, trapping the red dragon's wings beneath his paws. Chios emitted a shameless cheer, causing Delos to shoot her a glare.

"Gotcha," Naxos grinned down at his rival.

"Get off me!" Delos roared, struggling out from beneath the yellow dragon, kicking at him with his hind legs.

"That's enough, idiots," Seriphos growled, stopping the fight before it could continue. "Don't make me regret bringing you along."

Naxos slipped instantly to the green dragon's side, wrapping a companionable wing around him, "Aww, come on, Seri, lighten up!"

"I will when you stop acting like imbeciles," Seriphos replied, so coldly he could have been mistaken for an ice dragon.

"Ouch," Naxos held a paw to his chest, feigning hurt, "You've wounded me, Seri."

"Seri_phos_," he corrected tetchily.

"Are you coming or not?" Spyro glared accusingly at the four dragons below him, already in the air with Cynder and Sparx at his side.

The two younger dragons turned away from their companions and soared up towards the opening, not bothering to see if the other four were following. After giving Naxos and Delos an irritated glare, Seriphos led the three after the purple dragon and towards shelter.

* * *

Flame and Ember flew until they could fly no more, stopping only when their wings drooped from exhaustion and Ember almost fell out of the sky. It was dark, their way lit only by the two waning moons that shone in the navy sky above them. The dam had not come into sight and Ember was getting worried that she had led them the wrong way, but Flame didn't seem unduly concerned. He led her down to a rocky outcrop, illuminated eerily in the moonlight, and insisted they stop for the night.

"We'll both collapse at this rate," he growled, landing on the rocks. "We'll catch up to them tomorrow, so don't worry."

Ember shuffled closer to him, folding her wings close to her body and gazing around timidly at her surroundings, but there wasn't much to see in the darkness. The pink dragoness shivered as the wind sent chills up her spine.

"I don't like it here," she whispered, trembling. "It's too…open."

Flame was exploring the outcrop and had found a small hollow in the rocks, hidden behind a spiky clump of bracken. He nudged the plant aside and beckoned to Ember, enticing her away out of the cold wind and the open air. She hurried to his side, peering into the shallow hollow he had found.

"We'll shelter in here," he said, extending a reassuring wing around her. "It's small, but it'll do. Come on."

They crept past the bracken and curled up together in the shallow hollow, ignoring the rough texture of the rock that scraped against their wings and scales. Ember snuggled as close to Flame as possible, attempting to escape the scratchy bracken that hung against her flank and irritated her scales. Flame covered her with a golden wing and laid his head down beside hers, listening to her breathing. They lay in silence for a while, but neither found sleep and instead gazed blankly at the surface of the rock. Ember let out a great sigh and pushed her muzzle beneath Flame's chin.

"I don't like it out here," she murmured again, her voice muffled beneath his chin, "I have no idea what's out there and it's so open that I can't see anywhere to hide. I'm…afraid, Flame. I wish we were back home…"

"I thought it was your idea to come out here," Flame smirked, not unkindly, evoking a sheepish snuffle from the pink dragoness.

The red dragon lay for a moment, trying to think of something, anything, he could say to calm her fears. Her body was warm against his and he enjoyed the contact, although one side of him was pressed against hard, rough rock. He could feel her breathing against his own rib cage and her breath tickled the scales beneath his chin, but he didn't mind.

"Ember," he whispered, his voice almost drowned out by the howling of the wind, "You don't have to be afraid. It doesn't matter what's out there, as long as you're with me. As long as I'm here, I'll always protect you."

He paused, waiting to see how she would reply to this, but after a moment he realised she wouldn't. Her breathing was slow and even, her eyes shut against the darkness, and her muzzle still half-buried beneath his chin. She was asleep. Flame allowed a small smile to creep onto his face as he watched her sleep, warmed beneath his wing. Closing his own golden eyes, Flame waited for sleep to take hold, and wondered, just before he was lost in slumber, if his words had reached Ember in her dreams.

* * *

Ember's nose twitched, irritated by the tickling sensation of something scratching against the tip of her muzzle. The pink dragoness grumbled softly and pulled her wings closer to her body, half-asleep and unaware of her surroundings. The sunlight crept through onto her eyelids, warming her scales and rousing her from slumber. The scratching sensation on her nose continued and Ember cracked one eye open to see the perpetrator. A leaf of bracken tickled the sensitive scales of her muzzle, blowing in a gentle breeze, and she glared at it in annoyance. Moving her snout away from the fern, Ember shuffled deeper into the shallow cave and opened her jaws in a wide yawn.

It became clear, after a moment of remembering where exactly she was, that Flame was no longer in the shelter with her. He must have crept past her without her noticing, leaving her to sleep alone between the rock and the bracken. Wondering where he had gone, Ember slowly pushed herself to her feet, being careful not to knock her head on the low ceiling of the shallow cave. She crept past the clump of bracken, pushing it aside with an irritated flick of her tail, and gazed out at the open air. It was already well into the morning, judging from the position of the sun, and the sky was a brilliant shade of azure that perfectly matched Ember's eyes.

"Hey!" called a voice from below the rocky outcrop on which she stood, and she craned her head downwards for the speaker.

Flame waved up at her from where he stood, beckoning her down from the outcrop, his paws buried in a pile of what looked like little orange orbs. Curious, Ember glided down towards him and landed in front of him, sniffing at the orange orbs, which she had decided were fruits of some sort. She prodded one with a claw, piercing the skin and causing a small amount of juice to squirt onto her paw.

"What are they?" Ember asked, scrunching her nose out of confusion more than disgust.

"Fruits," Flame shrugged, before picking one up in his talons. "They seemed edible enough."

Ember wrinkled her snout as Flame shoved the fruit, whole, into his mouth and chewed on it. She peered at the one she had pierced with a claw, watching as the juice slowly leaked from the hole she had created.

"You sure they're not poisonous?"

"Come on," Flame grinned, swallowing the one he'd been eating and reaching for another. "Who's ever heard of a poisonous _fruit_?"

Ember rolled her eyes and timidly nipped at the round fruit. It was bitter and she stuck her tongue out in disgust, to which Flame just laughed and told her that the good stuff was on the inside. Sighing, Ember took a larger bite from the same fruit and was pleasantly surprised when the sweet juice touched her tongue, drowning out the bitter taste of the rind. Flame grinned at her expression.

"It's good," she admitted, licking her lips and reached shyly for another. "Wonder what they are?"

Flame shrugged and spit out a small, tear-shaped pip, "Who cares? They're edible, at least."

In silence, the two young dragons finished their meal of unfamiliar fruit and regained their strength from the previous flight. As for water, they'd just have to do without for a while, as there didn't seem to be a river or lake near. Flame glided back up to the top of the rocky outcrop to oversee their surroundings and Ember joined him moments later, satisfied with the breakfast of fruit. The red dragon glared at the sun, which was slowly creeping higher into the sky.

"We need to get going," he stated. "Who knows how far Spyro and the others are ahead of us, now? We need to catch up with them. I hate to admit it, but if we don't manage to find them…"

"We'll be lost," Ember finished with a sigh, looking uneasily around her, "I should have thought of that. But I'm sure we won't have much trouble finding our way back to Warfang."

Flame wasn't eager to turn back to the very place they had only just escaped from, and shook his head, "Let's save that as a last resort. We managed to sneak out without anyone knowing, so let's make the best of it. Come on, let's get going."

Agreeing quickly, Ember followed her friend into the sky and together they soared towards the horizon, hoping they were going the right way. Over treetops and canopies they soared, heading always in a straight line, on the lookout for any dragons that might give away Spyro's group. Ember was just getting worried that she and Flame had truly gotten lost, when something very welcome came into view. Rising out of the trees, appearing quite out of place with its gleaming, white marble walls, was the great dam.

"The dam, Flame," Ember cried triumphantly. "It's the dam!"

Flame flashed a toothy grin, "Brilliant! Looks like we went the right way after all! Come on!"

The two dragons swooped towards the mighty dam, marvelling at the structure and craftsmanship of its huge, white walls. Soaring over the dam, the young dragons came to a stop in mid air and, hovering, took in their surroundings. They were surrounded by forests on all sides and not far away Ember could see a mighty gorge that split between the trees like a winding black snake. Above the dam was a great lake, the waters of which the dam held back, and beyond that continued the lush forest as it stretched towards the horizon. Gazing towards the trees beyond the lake, the two dragons beheld a sight that was even more welcome than the dam.

"Look, Flame, it's them!" Ember yelled, gazing at the distant flying figures.

The red dragon stared close at the small figures in the distance and was sure he counted six. That had to be Spyro and the others. A triumphant grin spread across his muzzle and a plan slowly began to worm its way into his mind.

"We found them," he grinned, his voice a low purr. "Good job, Ember. Look's like they weren't as far ahead as we thought."

The pink dragoness beamed, "I told you they'd have to stop for the night. They must have stayed here at the dam. Come on, let's catch up to them!"

The pink dragoness shot towards the distant dragons without any further ado, but Flame quickly caught her up and blocked her path. She halted, hovering, and stared at him in confusion.

"Hold it," he said quickly, hovering in front of her. "Let's just think about this."

"About what?" Ember asked, curious and somewhat impatient.

"About what we're doing," Flame answered impatiently. "Listen. If we catch up to them, Seriphos is only going to take us back to Warfang and we're going to hear hell from the guardians for escaping. Even if we do help them and we find this missing search party, high and mighty purple guy is going to get all the credit and we're just going to get an earful."

Ember heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, "Well, what would you rather do? Head back right now? That'd be even worse than returning with Spyro and the others, you know that. Why did you even come if you were afraid of getting in trouble? Don't you want to help them?"

"Just let me finish," Flame groaned. "I've got a plan, alright, and hopefully it'll stop us from getting into trouble."

"Oh? And what sort of plan would that be?"

"We'll find the search party ourselves. If we manage to return with the missing dragons, when it was really Spyro who was sent out to find them, we'll be treated like heroes and hopefully Purple's ego will be pulled down a peg."

"I don't think Spyro's ego is as big as you think it is," Ember mumbled, but quickly shut her mouth when Flame glared at her.

The red dragon continued, "We'll follow Spyro's group close, so we don't get lost, but we won't reveal ourselves to them. If we do, we'll be in deep trouble. All we need to do is find the search party and bring them back without Spyro realising. Not only will we show him up, but the guardians will be too busy praising us to even think about punishing us for sneaking out. So, what do you think? Good plan?"

Ember didn't ponder on it for long, knowing that, even if she did disagree, there was no way she would convince Flame to do otherwise. The pink dragoness shrugged her shoulders as best she could while still hovering in the air, and agreed with her friend's plan.

"Alright," she sighed, "if that's what you want to do. I guess it's not a bad plan. Just as long as we _do _find the search party. Otherwise your whole plan is pointless."

Flame glared at her, offended, and she grinned apologetically. The red dragon tossed his head, turning back towards the distant figures of Spyro and his group, preparing to go after them. Flame knew all too well that Ember was right and that his plan had serious flaws in it, but his own ego never let him back down from a challenge.

"Come on," he grinned confidently. "How hard can it be to find a bunch of lost dragons?"

* * *

Spyro and the others had risen at first light, eager to get in as much time searching as they could before they were required to return to Warfang. After flying across the lake, the six dragons and one dragonfly had beheld with some trepidation the area in which they were to search. The plains stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with forests, rocky outcrops, and a jagged mountain range in the distance that could be reached within a few hours flight.

The purple dragon cast his gaze over the land stretched out beneath him, wondering just where to start. He should have expected such a large search area, but somehow that hadn't crossed his mind until now. The other dragons seemed to have similar thoughts.

Naxos gave a low whistle, "This is where they got lost, huh? No wonder."

"It'll take us days to search this place," Delos grumbled, his yellow eyes raking the canopy below. "If we didn't have to return so soon…"

"Maybe we should split up?" Chios suggested, looking to Spyro and Seriphos for their opinions.

Spyro considered it for a moment, but Seriphos disagreed instantly, "Not a good idea. If there really is danger out there, and I'd be hard put believing there isn't, it'd be wise to stick together. Like Master Terrador said, we don't want to lose anyone else."

Though Spyro would have preferred to split up, he knew Seriphos was right. There was no telling what was hiding within the trees, waiting to strike down any unsuspecting dragons. For their own safety, it was better to stay in a group. Cynder hovered anxiously beside him, her tail twitching impatiently, scrutinising the land below with a sharp eye.

"We'd best start searching straight away," she suggested, "especially with such a large area to search and such little time to do it in."

"But where do we start?" Sparx scratched his head with a perplexed expression on his face.

"We need to think like the search party would," Spyro said, thinking it over as he formulated a plan. "They went out to find dragons in hiding, so they would have gone somewhere where dragons would be able to hide. The plains are very open and the trees don't provide much cover. This is only a guess, but I think Feldun would have led the search party towards the mountains. There must be all sorts of caves and tunnels for dragons to hide in. I'm sure that's where they must have gone."

Seriphos nodded slowly, his brow furrowing as he thought it over, "So, you think we should head towards the mountains? What if we overlook something in the trees? If something hindered them before they could reach the mountains, they could be anywhere from here to there."

Spyro sighed, "I know, but it'll be impossible to search everywhere. I think we'll have more chance of finding them in less open places and the mountain range is our best bet. But keep an eye out; look for any clues, any signs of danger or something that suggests dragons may have been there. We don't want to miss anything important. There's not much else we can do."

"Alright, Spyro," Seriphos sighed, "I see your point. We'll head towards the mountain range, then. Everyone, keep a sharp eye."

There were no objections from the others. Spyro took one last look around before soaring down towards the canopy, knowing the closer he kept to the ground, the better his chance of spotting something.

"Let's go!" he called back, as the other five dragons and Sparx soared after him.

Slow was their flight, their eyes trained on the earth beneath them, determined not to miss a thing. Had any of them bothered to look behind, they may have noticed the two young dragons flying towards them from across the lake. But, by some miraculous stroke of luck, none of them did, and Flame and Ember went undetected.

For a few silent hours, Spyro and his group soared over canopies of trees, ducking low every now and then to search for any clues. Slowly the forests began to wane as bare earth appeared in patches, littered only with a yellowed blanket of grass. The further towards the mountains they flew, the rockier the earth below them seemed to become as great outcrops of rock rose from the earth between clumps of trees. But they saw nothing to indicate the presence of the lost search party and in silence they continued on.

"This is ridiculous," Sparx muttered, after he could stand the silence no longer. "What are we being so quiet for? Anyone would think we were sneakin' about! If we're looking for someone, why don't we let them know we're here?"

And so saying, before anyone could stop him, Sparx cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Hellooo! Anyone out there? Helloooo!"

"Sparx!" Spyro hissed as Cynder snatched the dragonfly up in her claws, quickly muffling his yells with the pad of her paw. "Quiet!"

After struggling with Cynder's restraining paw for a moment, Sparx managed to gasp out, "Why not? Don't you want them to hear us?"

Seriphos snorted, glaring at the dragonfly, "They wouldn't be the only ones to hear us, Sparx. Do you have any idea what could be hiding out there, amongst the trees, waiting with hostile intentions? There are things down there, Sparx, that we do not want to hear us."

"Oh, doom and gloom," Sparx waved a nonchalant hand. "You're too overdramatic. Look around! We haven't seen any life whatsoever! There is _nothing _out there, right Spyro buddy?"

But the purple dragon shook his head, scowling, "Seriphos is right, Sparx. We don't know what's out there and even if we can't see them, it doesn't mean they're not there. So I suggest you keep quiet. We don't want to draw unwelcome attention."

Sparx still didn't seem convinced and grumbled incoherently to himself, prying himself away from Cynder's grasp. Spyro shot him one last annoyed glare, before turning around to continue onwards. He had barely flown an inch before Chios emitted a shriek of shock, much to his surprise and alarm. Spinning around, he looked questionably at the green dragoness, who was gazing over her shoulder with a shocked expression. Delos and Naxos had turned to stare at her, confused by her sudden shriek.

"What is—?" Spyro began, before breaking off with a roar of shock and pain as an arrow glanced off his scaled flank.

"Spyro!" Cynder yelled, only to screech herself as an arrow narrowly missed her head.

Naxos and Delos emitted similar roars, managing to dodge the various missiles, both arrows and rocks, which shot towards them. Seriphos turned frantically, searching for their attackers, and spotted a stream of smoke rising from between the trees. A small rock glanced off his head, breaking the skin and causing blood to trickle down his scales and into his eye.

"Spyro!" the green dragon roared, "Down there!"

Spyro jerked his head away from an oncoming arrow and twisted his head around to see the stream of smoke that Seriphos had spotted, billowing from between the trees almost directly below them. Spyro was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. It streamed from the centre of a clearing between several clumps of trees and Spyro realised with a jolt that its source was a small campfire. Small creatures that Spyro couldn't make out from the air were dashing around the fire, throwing missiles towards the hovering dragons above them.

"It's a campsite!" the purple dragon yelled, grunting as a rock struck his paw painfully. "They're attacking us!"

"But what _are _they?" Sparx yelled back, screaming as he was narrowly missed by a flying rock no bigger than a pebble.

Spyro only shook his head helplessly, unable to tell from the air, and dodged around another arrow. Behind him, Naxos gave a great roar of pain as that very same arrow pierced his shoulder. Chios yelled his name and screamed as Delos knocked her out of the way before she too could be struck by an arrow. The missile narrowly missed the red dragon and he roared in anger, swatting a rock back towards the earth with his tail. Spyro looked around frantically.

"Go down!" he yelled, over the sound of the commotion, "Go down! We're helpless up here! Go down!"

The purple dragon shot towards the campsite, hoping that the others were following. He swerved sharply to the left, avoiding a flying rock that Cynder knocked back with her tail, and dipped closer towards the campsite. At last he saw the creatures for what they were and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Grublins!" Spyro yelled. "Those are grublins!"

"You mean there's still grublins alive?" Sparx shrieked. "I should have known! We're all gonna die!"

"But why are they attacking us?" Cynder yelled to the purple dragon. "I thought Malefor was controlling, wasn't he? Why are they attacking us if their leader is no longer here to command them?"

The grublins scattered as Spyro landed amongst them, whipping some out of the way with his tail and snapping at the ones close to him. Cynder skidded to a halt beside him, sending dirt and clumps of grass flying, opening her mouth to issue a shrill, deathly shriek that froze several grublins where they stood. Behind them, the other four dragons came to similar heavy landings, knocking grublins into the air. Naxos stood between Chios and Delos, valiantly trying to ignore the pain in his pierced shoulder.

"I don't know," Spyro replied, snarling at the grublins, who had stopped attacking for the moment. "Perhaps they hold a grudge against the dragon race or perhaps they think that, even with Malefor gone, they still have a war to finish. I wonder if we could try reasoning with them…"

"_If _we can understand their language," Cynder muttered, as the grublins began to shriek, brandishing their weapons.

Sparx backed away slowly, looking around for a place to hide, as the cries of the grublins become louder and frenzied, "I don't think they'll listen, Spyro!"

"Somehow," Cynder growled, "I think Sparx is right."

As if to prove her point, the frenzied grublins suddenly broke ranks and ran, hollering, towards the dragons. Spyro, Cynder, and the other four met the charging grublins with fearsome roars, leaving Sparx to cower behind the nearest tree. Naxos twisted his head and gripped the shaft of the arrow in his teeth, tearing it out of his shoulder with a pained snarl. Letting the wound bleed openly, the yellow dragon leapt into a group of the small beasts and proceeded to tear them apart with his claws, electricity sparking in his jaws. Back to back, Cynder and Spyro faced the tiny, familiar creatures, eager to protect each other.

Disregarding everything else around him, Seriphos turned his wrath on the attacking grublins, attacking with a strength that his old Master would be proud of. Pillars of rock came bursting from the earth, knocking grublins skyward, as Seriphos' element went berserk. Hot fire swept through the ranks of grublins as Delos leapt into the fray, slashing with his lethal talons and spitting flame at the same time. Keeping close to Naxos, Chios backed him up by spitting rocks at their attackers and swiping them away with her long, green tail.

"Get back!" Spyro roared, breathing a blanket of ice over the grublins in front of him.

Backing up against Spyro, Cynder gathered poison deep in the back of her throat and expelled it with a shriek. The lethal venom melted away whatever it touched, and Cynder suffocated the remaining grublins with shadowy flames that spread like darkness from her jaws. The grublins began to back away from the furiously fighting dragons and for a moment Spyro thought the worst was over. But, much to his surprise, the grublins began to beat their weapons together, howling screeches to the sky. Their eerie cries sent shivers down his spine as Spyro realised what was coming.

"They're calling reinforcements!" he yelled to his companions. "Stop them!"

But the damage was already done. The instant the dragons cut down the remaining grublins, others began to stream from within the trees. They came in waves, some flying and others running beneath them, and all brandishing a variety of weapons. Standing alongside his companions, Spyro prepared to meet the oncoming grublins with everything he had. He'd do whatever it took to protect Cynder.

* * *

Flame and Ember were closing in on Spyro and his group when they saw the commotion. They had been trying to stay low, close to the canopy, to avoid detection from the dragons in front of them, and so far it had worked. Flame saw the stream of smoke first and stared curiously at it, wondering where it was coming from. Spyro and the others had stopped and were hovering above the trees, but it wasn't until Chios screamed did he realise that something was wrong. He and Ember watched alarmed, as Spyro and the others began to mill about in a panic as though being attacked by some unseen enemy.

"What's going on?" Ember cried fearfully. "What's happening to them?"

Flame's eyes widened as an arrow fell just short of them, and realised. "They're being attacked! Ember, quickly, follow me!"

The red dragon shot down into the trees with Ember hard on his tail and landed on the ground. The instant the pink dragoness had landed beside him, Flame slunk through the trees towards the place where he could hear the commotion. Ember followed him close and they kept close to the trees in order to remain unseen. The noise of the commotion steadily grew in volume, until Flame quickly halted Ember and shot behind the nearest tree. Ember hurried to his side and together they peered around the tree trunk at the scene in the clearing beyond.

Spyro and the other dragons had landed and were currently fighting with a group of small, strange-looking creatures, the likes of which Ember and Flame had never seen. Neither of the two young dragons made a move to join in the battle, watching as Spyro and the others seemed to gain the upper hand. But Ember's eyes widened in fear when she heard Spyro's yell.

"They're calling reinforcements! Stop them!"

Moments later, those reinforcements streamed from the trees across the other side of the clearing and continued the attack on Spyro and his group. Ember cringed as she watched them battle, wincing every time one of them was hit, and trembling with the urge to help.

"We've got to help them!" she hissed to Flame, but the red dragon shook his head furiously.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed back. "We help them now, and they'll know we followed them! We have to keep quiet if we want the plan to work!"

Ember's eyes narrowed in anger, "This is more important than your stupid plan! They're in trouble and we need to help them, regardless of whether the guardians punish us for sneaking out!"

"They can handle themselves!" Flame snapped back, keeping low behind the tree.

"Ugh," Ember groaned, annoyed by his stubbornness.

The pink dragoness watched the fight until she could stand the violence no longer. She heard Spyro yell as one of his assailants tore a gash across his foreleg with its weapon, and could no longer stand to do nothing. She gave Flame one last pleading glance, but he shook his head firmly. Shooting him a filthy glare, Ember stood up.

"Fine," she snapped, "I'll help them myself!"

"Ember!" Flame hissed as loud as he dared, but she had already dashed away from him.

Spyro stumbled backwards, yelling in pain as blood dripped from the gash in his foreleg. He vaguely heard Cynder yell his name and the shriek as she used her fear element on the grublins. The grublin that had attacked him leapt at him once more and Spyro stumbled back in shock, wincing as his foreleg twinged. Suddenly, the attacking creature was set on fire by a stream of flame that seemed to shoot from nowhere. It screeched and collapsed, writhing on the ground as Spyro stared at it in shock.

"Spyro!" yelled a voice and Spyro looked up in astonishment to see a pink dragoness running towards him.

"Ember!" he yelled as she skidded to a halt in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"That's not important!" she gasped. "Right now, I'm here to help you!"

Ember turned swiftly, knocking away a grublin that had been sneaking up behind her. Spyro's eyes widened and he nodded in understanding.

"I see your point!" He yelled back, ramming a grublin with his horns, "Attack now, talk later!"

Around them, the battle escalated as the grublins continued to pour into the clearing, a seemingly endless army. Naxos emitted a bone-rattling roar as he leapt into the centre of a large group and seemed to explode with electricity, sending bits of grublin flying. Delos and Chios seemed to have teamed up and were sending burning balls of stone flying into the grublin ranks, causing plenty of mayhem. Spyro ducked as several grublins were sent flying over his head, tossed around by Cynder's wind element, and dodged one of Seriphos's out-of-control earth pillars that shot up out of the ground at random.

Side by side, Ember and Spyro turned the grublins around them to ash with their burning breaths of fire. The pink dragoness seemed to have forgotten all of her previous timidness and uncertainty that she usually had during a fight, as though the desperate situation had unlocked courage within her that she'd never known. Anger sparked in her brilliant azure eyes as burning waves of fire burst from her jaws, setting grublins alight and causing her pink scales to glow like the setting sun. The grublins stood no chance against the joint attack of the group of dragons, and soon many began to retreat.

"They're retreating!" Spyro yelled, letting loose a cold gust of ice from his maw that froze both earth and grublins alike.

With renewed gusto, the dragons pushed the grublins back until they fled into the trees from whence they had come. Exhausted, Spyro and the others collapsed onto the torn up ground, breathing heavily. Ember looked around at them anxiously, hoping they were all okay. She shot a swift look into the trees and saw that Flame was still hidden within them. Sighing, Ember turned back to Spyro as he picked himself up from the battle-scarred earth.

"What were those things?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Grublins," Spyro sighed. "They used to form most of Malefor's army. They're not very friendly, as you can see."

Cynder strode towards them, mostly unharmed, and gave Ember a surprised and slightly unfriendly look.

"What is she doing here?" the black dragoness asked Spyro, with more surprise than contempt.

"That's what I'd like to know," Seriphos agreed, walking up behind them and blinking blood from his eyes.

Naxos limped over towards them, leaning on Chios as blood poured from his injured shoulder, Delos beside him. They all looked accusingly at Ember, who looked back at them sheepishly, knowing it was time to explain. She hesitated as she looked into Seriphos's stern eyes, but knew there was no getting out of it.

"I…I snuck out after you," she admitted, sighing, turning her blue eyes to the ground, "I'm sorry."

Spyro sighed and Seriphos gave a snort as he growled, "I wouldn't have expected such foolish actions from _you_ of all dragons, Ember. What on earth were you thinking? You could have been seriously hurt!"

"I'm sorry!" Ember cried, shrinking away from him, "I just wanted to help!"

Naxos and Delos exchanged exasperated glances and shrugged, before the former addressed the pink dragoness, "You shouldn't have come after us, Ember. It's far too dangerous for you. And it's quite unlike you to think of doing something like this…is there something you're not telling us?"

Ember hesitated, remembering that Flame was still hidden in the trees behind her, and shook her head furiously, "No. I came out by myself. I was going to ask Flame to come with me, but…"

"He was locked up," Spyro finished for her, nodding, "Terrador imprisoned him in his own room, if I remember correctly. So you decided to come by yourself?"

Ember sighed and dipped her head, cringing inside at the lie she had just told, "Yes…"

Seriphos snorted again, "Foolish dragoness. Terrador would have done well to lock you in your room as well! I think Flame's recklessness has rubbed off on you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ember repeated, her voice hitching in shame. "I won't do it again! I just…want to help…"

She looked hopefully at them, but Spyro shook his head slowly and her hopes fell. Sparx had come out of his hiding place and was hovering beside Cynder, folding his arms as he glared sternly at the pink dragoness.

"I'm afraid there'll be no helping us," Spyro sighed. "We're heading back now."

Ember's spirits fell, "Because…because of me?"

But Seriphos shook his head, to her relief, "Not entirely. Master Terrador told us to return if we encountered danger. It would be foolish and unwise to continue now that we have confirmed there is danger here. We must head back. And you, Ember, are coming back with us. Understood?"

Ember bowed her head shamefully and nodded, "I understand. I'm sorry."

"You can apologise to the guardians when we return," Seriphos replied sternly, before turning to the purple dragon. "Spyro, shall we go?"

Spyro looked around regretfully at the destroyed campsite of the grublins. He hadn't wanted to return without finding the missing search party, and would have continued to search despite the danger. But he knew that it was unwise and he didn't want the guardians in Warfang to worry if he didn't return. They were probably already worried enough by the disappearance of Ember. The purple dragon nodded reluctantly, looking around at his injured group.

"Yes. We'd best go," Spyro sighed. "We're in no shape to continue, anyway. Naxos, can you fly?"

The yellow dragon rolled his injured shoulder and winced as more blood streamed down his leg, "I'll be alright. Delos will carry me if I collapse, won't you, Hot Stuff?"

The red dragon nudged him roughly, causing him to wince and lean on Chios, "Keep dreaming, Sparky."

Spyro turned to Cynder and shrugged, "Let's go, then."

Ember could tell that they were reluctant to finish their search so soon, but said nothing, knowing that they'd already made up their minds to return. Seriphos insisted that she fly between him and Spyro to be sure she didn't try to escape, but Ember had no intentions of escaping.

As they leapt into the sky and began the flight back towards Warfang, Ember turned to give the trees one last look and hoped that Flame would follow on behind. She knew she didn't want him out there alone, especially with those strange grublin creatures hanging about. But she couldn't see him through the canopy and could only hope he had enough sense to head back to the city. So, attempting to forget about Flame, Ember commenced the flight back to Warfang between Spyro and Seriphos.

* * *

Flame watched with a scowl as Ember was escorted by the other dragons back towards Warfang, leaving him crouching alone amongst the trees. For a few moments the red dragon sat in silence, pondering just what to do, whether to follow them back to the city or not. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of unintelligible muttering from within the trees across the other side of the clearing. Curious, Flame slunk around the trees towards the noise, keeping low to the ground as he belly-crawled across the clearing. Poking his head around the trunk of a large tree, Flame beheld a bunch of strange creatures, the very same that had attacked Spyro and his group.

The creatures, grublins if Flame recalled their name correctly, were muttering amongst each other in a strange language that he didn't understand. They didn't seem to notice Flame's presence and were raising their voices in what sounded like anger and annoyance. An idea suddenly formed itself in the red dragon's mind as he watched the strange conversation of the grublins.

'_Did the search party come across these creatures?_' Flame wondered, narrowing his golden eyes at them. '_Were they attacked just like Spyro? If so, what happened to them? Maybe these grublins have something to do with their disappearance._'

Flame's eyes widened in alarm as the grublins suddenly turned away from him and disappeared into the trees. The red dragon made up his mind quickly and slunk after them, attempting to keep as quiet as possible and still keep up with them. For the moment he had forgotten about returning to Warfang.

'_If the missing search party ran afoul of these beasts, then following them just might lead me to them,_' Flame thought to himself, grinning at his own genius idea. '_Imagine Spyro's face when I return with the search party that _he _was supposed to find. That'll show the purple freak._'

So, with that thought in mind, Flame followed the grublins as closely as he dared, towards what he hoped to be their hideout. For what seemed like hours he slunk, crawled and slithered around trees and through yellowed grass as he followed the grublins, always keeping out of sight. Had he looked upwards, he would have noticed that the mountain range was looming closer and closer, but he was too focused on what was in front of him.

Slowly, the trees became less and less, until Flame was afraid he would lose his cover. But no sooner had the trees receded, did the jagged rocks rise from the earth. Like undulating waves of stone, the earth burst forth clumps of rock that formed hidden passageways and shallow cave-like hollows. At last Flame dared to look up.

The red dragon was at the foot of a mighty mountain range, and the earth beneath his paws was a barren wasteland of rock. In awe, Flame gazed at the mighty mountain ahead of him, unable to feel anything but inferiority in its presence. The grublins had moved further towards the mountain and suddenly, to Flame's alarm, dipped downwards and disappeared. The red dragon hurried quickly to the spot they had disappeared, and beheld a tunnel that appeared to lead deep into the earth within the mountain range.

For a moment, Flame stood in undecided hesitation and looked almost longingly back at the trees behind him. But the temptation of the tunnel, which could lead to who knows where, was too much for the adventurous dragon to resist. With a last shrug, Flame slipped into the darkness of the mountain.

It took Flame's eyes a while to adjust to the darkness within the tunnel and he kept spitting fire to light his way, illuminating the rocks eerily. He padded slowly along, listening carefully for the sounds of the grublins, but heard nothing. On he continued, further into the darkness, until Flame was beginning to think there was no end to this tunnel. But, quite suddenly, the young dragon beheld a light at the end of the tunnel, flickering like fire. His curiosity sparked, Flame trotted warily towards the flickering light. It became larger and larger as he approached, until the tunnel suddenly opened up into a large cavern, lit by fire lanterns hung on the rock walls. Flame's jaw almost dropped from shock and awe.

The cavern was at least as large as the Atrium back at Warfang, if not larger, and completely bare of anything except for the fiery torches. Numerous tunnels led into the darkness away from the cavern, and it was into one of those that Flame saw the grublins flying. The red dragon waited until he was sure they were gone before stepping out into the fire-lit cavern. He tiptoed around the cavern, admiring the natural walls that appeared to have been scooped out by a giant claw, and peering into each of the dark tunnels. In some of the tunnels he could see the light of torches as they opened out into further caverns that led deeper into the mountain, but others continued on in darkness. Vaguely, Flame wondered just how far these caverns stretched.

He was just wondering which tunnel to go down, when he heard a voice echo from the one to his left. He couldn't make out what the voice had said, but it appeared to bounce around the cavern like an eerie echo. Flame crept towards the tunnel and peered into it, but saw only darkness. The quiet voice didn't sound again, but Flame's curiosity had already been sparked. With little hesitation, he crept into the darkness of the tunnel and edged towards the place where the voice had come from.

Again he heard the voice, soft, eerie and echoing, but couldn't make out what it was saying. Flame stepped as quietly as he could, glad the pads of his feet didn't echo in the tunnel. A pale flickering light appeared in the darkness ahead of him, and Flame crouched low, listening. The voice sounded again and this time Flame heard it clearly. It sounded something like a song, but it wasn't a cheery song like the ones that Flame had heard Ember sing before. It was strange, cold and eerie, and it sent shivers up his spine.

_When moonlight has shone and sunlight is gone._

_When whispers of winter break warmth in splinters._

_When shadows arise to darken the skies._

Flame crept forwards slowly, towards the flickering light, listening to the strange singing and wondering just who, or what, it was. A loose pebble clacked beneath his paw and he froze as the sound echoed within the tunnel. The singing stopped abruptly and Flame heard the voice growl.

"Who's there?" it snapped edgily.

Flame held his breath, trembling, and hoped that whoever it was didn't look in the tunnel. But, after a moment, the singing continued and Flame let out a silent sigh of relief. He listened closely to the voice and decided it was definitely a male that hadn't quite reached maturity, much like he.

_When hearts are shattered and hopes are scattered._

_When souls are shamed and nothing has a name._

_When facing the end with no loyal friend._

Closer to the light, Flame crept, as silent as he could, eager to see just who and what the voice belonged to. He stuck close to the wall and craned his head to see into the cavern beyond the tunnel and at last saw the creature for what it was.

_The shadows are heartless, but this is my darkness._

Flame's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as the last line of the song drifted into silence. There, standing in the centre of a small, fire-lit cavern, his scales such a pale grey they appeared colourless, stood a young dragon.

**A/N: At last, another chapter! I kept getting distracted while writing this, so I hope it's not too broken up and hard to read. At last I've reached the part that the summary described (as some of my friends so kindly pointed out). I didn't think it'd take me this long. :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing! ^.^**


	13. Alta

**13. Alta**

Crouching in the mouth of the tunnel, Flame scrutinised the grey dragon in the cavern, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness. The grey dragon had his back to him and Flame was unable to see his face, but it was clear just from his size that he was no older than Flame. Confused and curious, Flame crept closer towards the cavern, keeping so low that his belly scraped the ground.

What was this dragon doing here; had he been captured by the grublins? Somehow, Flame didn't think that was the case. This dragon seemed too carefree, sitting alone in a cavern as he sang to himself a strange and eerie song. Closer Flame crept, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he attempted to be as quiet as possible.

At first the grey dragon didn't seem to notice a thing, occupied with something on the ground in front of him and seemingly unaware of the dragon sneaking up behind him. But suddenly he raised his head and turned around calmly to face Flame, looking slightly surprised but not unduly alarmed. Flame froze instantly, still flat against the floor of the cavern as he gazed upon the dragon's face. He had been right; this dragon was no older than he was.

"Well," said the dragon, looking down at Flame with an amused smirk on his face, "what have we here? I haven't seen you around before."

Flame straightened up slowly, his wary gaze taking in the appearance of the unfamiliar young dragon. He had two sets of ivory white horns, the larger of which curved upwards while the smaller set curved down towards his neck. On the tip of his tail, swishing backwards and forwards behind him, was an ivory, arrow-shaped tailblade that tapered to a lethal point. Two curving spikes sprouted from the base of the tailblade, giving it an even more deadly appearance. But the dragon's eyes were most unusual. Like chips of ice they stared at Flame, a pale and almost innocent blue. The grey dragon stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but Flame remained silent.

"Well, say something," the grey dragon prompted impatiently. "How did you get here? Did the grublins capture you, did you get curious and decide to go exploring, or…have you been here all along and avoided my detection? These caverns do stretch far into the mountains, after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if there were more dragons in here. Well, come on then, can you speak or not?"

Flame stared at him, slightly unnerved by those alarming blue eyes and the intense way in which the dragon was staring at him. After a moment of silence, in which the grey dragon began to tap his tailblade on the floor in impatience, Flame spoke.

"I followed the grublins," he shrugged, keeping a wary eye on the grey dragon, "I thought they might be responsible for the disappearance of a few…friends of mine."

He didn't elaborate any further and the grey dragon scrutinised him for a moment, leaving Flame wondering if he believed him. But the grey dragon merely shrugged and looked around the cavern.

"Well, as I said, these caverns are extensive," the grey dragon explained. "But I haven't seen any other dragons for a while. I'm sure I would have noticed if the grublins brought any of your friends here, and I haven't. Looks like you came all the way in here for nothing. Sorry about that."

But the grey dragon didn't seem sorry at all. In fact he seemed quite apathetic, as though there was nothing in the world that could interest him. Flame felt a stab of annoyance as he glared at the grey dragon and decided to ask a few questions of his own.

"Huh, so," Flame stared accusingly at the grey dragon, "if there aren't any other dragons in here, then why are you here?"

The grey dragon looked at him with amusement, his blue eyes twinkling, "My, my, do I sense a bit of animosity there? Are you a little wary of me, perhaps? Hold on, let me explain."

Flame curled his lip, revealing one white fang, "Go on, I'm listening."

The grey dragon seemed unperturbed by Flame's snarl, "I live here. Don't believe me? Well, you see these scales of mine? Pale, aren't they? I don't really like going out in sunlight, hurts my poor grey scales, so I mostly stay in here where the light can't burn me. It's a rather lonely life, but my family died long ago, so I've learned to live with it."

Flame stared hard at the unusual dragon, but he couldn't tell whether he was telling the truth or not, and decided to believe him for now. He didn't seem all that harmless; just a little strange. But there was one thing that the red dragon wasn't sure about.

"What about the grublins?" he asked warily, narrowing his eyes. "They're not exactly friendly towards dragons. So, what makes you an exception?"

The grey dragon grinned and shrugged, "I don't bother them, they don't bother me. It's a mutual agreement. There's enough room for the both of us in these caverns. Believe me yet?"

Flame hesitated, thinking it over as he glared at the apparently harmless grey dragon. There was definitely something strange about him, but Flame wasn't sure exactly what it was. But there wasn't anything stopping the red dragon from believing him and he nodded with a shrug, noticing as the grey dragon's smile grew broader.

"What's your name, then?" the grey dragon asked, leaning forwards curiously.

"Flame," the red dragon replied, deciding it couldn't hurt to let the strange dragon know his name.

The grey dragon grinned, revealing pearly white fangs, "All right, Flame, you can call me Alta."

"Alta," Flame repeated, tasting the unusual name on his tongue, "Fine, but…I really need to head back. They're probably all wondering what's happened to me."

He was right of course. The guardians would already know by now that he was no longer imprisoned in his room and would most likely assume that he'd gone after Spyro. But when Spyro returned and he wasn't with them, Flame knew that things could turn bad. Ember had lied that she had snuck out on her own and if the guardians and Spyro found out about that, she could be in deep strife. Flame didn't really wish that on his childhood friend, so the sooner he returned the better. But Alta seemed to have other ideas.

"So soon?" the grey dragon asked, looking slightly disappointed. "Are you sure? You look like you've just had a long flight. Why not stay a while, get your strength back? Needless to say, I don't get much company here."

Flame hesitated, "I…I guess. I am pretty tired from the long flight."

"You'll stay then?" Alta asked eagerly, his pale blue eyes twinkling in the firelight.

'_I might as well_,' Flame thought to himself, watching the grey dragon closely. '_It can't hurt._'

"Just for a little while," the red dragon confirmed with a nod and Alta flashed a grin.

"I'm glad," said the grey dragon, "It's not often I get visitors."

Flame nodded slowly, his eyes suddenly drawn to the rocky earth behind Alta, which appeared to have been marked with a coloured paste of sorts. The red dragon stared curiously at the odd pattern and raised an eyebrow.

"What is that?"

"Oh?" Alta turned, stepping to the side and allowing Flame to see the odd pattern that he had painted on the ground, "That's the way I pass time. It's called painting. The paste is made from ground rock, clay and water. You see?"

Flame approached the painted pattern warily, as though it would suddenly rise from the ground and attack. It swirled over the rocks in earthy colours of deep red, rich brown and pale beige. Flame couldn't really see any form within the pattern. All it appeared to be was a bunch of interweaving, twirling lines. But, somehow, it was almost mesmerising. Set beside the painting were three empty shells of what looked like dried-out giant seedpods filled with three different-coloured pastes. It must have been those pastes that Alta had used to create the pattern. Flame turned back to the grey dragon and saw what he didn't notice before. Alta's paws were stained with the paste, almost making them blend in with the rock.

"I've never seen anything like it," Flame admitted, looking around the cave as he tried to find some way to describe it. "It's…interesting."

For the first time, Flame noticed that much of the rock walls of the cavern were covered with similar patterns, all in the same earthy colours. Something about it felt strange, mesmerising, even eerie in a way, and incredibly unnatural. Flame wasn't sure he liked this 'painting', especially when it surrounded him on all sides.

"It's a little unusual," Alta said, as though reading Flame's thoughts. "But, after living alone for so long, anything strange seems normal to me. When there's no one around you learn to do things that others normally wouldn't."

Flame stared at the pattern on the floor for a little longer, until he could stand it no longer and looked away before the swirling lines could mesmerise him. He raised an eyebrow at the grey dragon, who was looking quite unperturbed by Flame's less-than-flattering reaction.

"I see," the red dragon replied, unsure what else to say.

Alta had begun to swish his tail and was looking expectantly at the red dragon, "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Me?" Flame blinked, slightly surprised that this grey dragon even cared.

"Of course," Alta grinned, "I need to know who my mysterious visitor is! Or is your past…_secret_?"

Flame snorted at the ridiculous idea, "Of course not, why would it be?"

"Well, then, why don't you tell me about it?" Alta prompted, grinning oddly as he rose off his haunches and padded closer to the red dragon. "Do my paintings make you uncomfortable? We'll take a walk then. Come on."

Flame didn't need to reply as the grey dragon was already walking towards the far tunnel, beckoning him to follow. The red dragon shrugged and hurried after him, glad to get away from the odd cavern filled with strange mesmerising patterns. It was darker in the tunnel, but fire lanterns had been set at random intervals along the walls and the two dragons could see well enough in their light. Flame snuck another glance at the grey dragon and noticed that his scales had an almost blue tint to them that was mostly drowned out by the orange light from the lanterns. Did that mean he was an ice dragon? But Flame wasn't entirely certain of that. He didn't seem like any ice dragon he had ever met.

After a while of walking in silence through the dimly lit tunnel, Alta led Flame out into another cavern, slightly smaller than the last but thankfully empty of the strange paintings. It, too, was lit by fire lanterns around the walls and Flame couldn't help but wonder just how far beneath the mountain they were. He followed Alta across the cavern towards the far two tunnels, both of which continued into darkness. The grey dragon stopped in front of them.

"Right or left?" he asked the red dragon, grinning at the surprised look on Flame's face, "You're the guest, the choice is yours."

Flame blinked his golden eyes and stared at the two dark tunnels, wondering where each one went and how far they'd stretch before they reached another cavern. At last he shrugged and chose the one closest to him: the left. Alta didn't argue at all and Flame had the feeling that it didn't bother him which tunnel he'd chosen. Into the darkness they wandered until another fire lantern granted them orange light.

"So," said Alta, padding quietly across the rocky floor. "Ready to talk to me now? Tell me about yourself. Where're you from, who're your friends, stuff like that."

Flame was silent for a few moments as he wondered where to begin and whether he was comfortable with sharing such personal information with this odd dragon. But Alta seemed friendly enough and not nearly as egotistical as Spyro, so Flame didn't hesitate for long.

"I come from the Dragon City," the red dragon explained, his eyes lighting up suddenly as they passed by a lantern on the wall.

"City?" Alta raised an eyebrow. "What's it called?"

"Warfang," Flame replied, slightly surprised that Alta appeared to have never heard of it.

"Interesting," Alta pondered, "So there's a city nearby. Warfang, did you say? Yes, I think I heard my parents mention it once. A big place?"

"Yeah, but there's not many dragons there," Flame shrugged. "They were all sent into hiding or killed during the Great War. You've heard of that, right?"

An odd look entered Alta's eyes but Flame didn't seem to notice, and if he did he merely brushed it off as a trick of the firelight, "Ah, the war. I may have been living under a whole lot of rock for who knows how long, but even _I_ have heard of the war. I hear it's over now though, or so I gathered from the grublins. If I'm not mistaken, they took refuge in here after their master was killed."

Flame looked surprised, "Did they? How'd you know?"

Alta hesitated, before answering vaguely, "An educated guess. Even down here news manages to reach me of the outside world."

Flame stared hard at him, slightly suspicious, but didn't ask how. Instead he turned his gaze back to the dark rock walls and continued.

"The war ended a few weeks ago and my tribe was coaxed out of hiding by a bunch of dragons from Warfang," the red dragon explained, noticing that they were once more approaching another large cavern. "They were led by some dragon who says he was responsible for ending the war and killing the Dark Master. But if you ask me, I think he's too cocky for his own good. Just 'cause he's purple and all…"

Alta's head shot up quite suddenly, his pale blue eyes lighting up in the dim light of the fire, "Oh? Purple, you say? That _is_ interesting."

The two dragons stepped out into the next cavern, walking down a short slope into the centre of the wide cave. Flame glanced at the grey dragon, curious at his sudden interest in the mention of the purple dragon. That odd look was back in his eyes again and Flame was sure this time that it wasn't a trick of the light. It made him feel oddly wary and slightly vulnerable, as though he wanted to curl up in a ball to protect himself. But Flame wasn't easily unnerved and brushed off the feeling as he continued.

"Right," nodded the red dragon. "This guy called Spyro. He's supposed to be some prophesised purple dragon and I'm sure he managed to defeat Malefor like he says, but the problem is that he's totally full of himself. And everyone treats him like he's some prince or something, when all he is, really, is just an egotistical kid."

Alta smirked, "Sounds like you've got a bit of hostility towards this Spyro. Not jealous are you?"

"No way!" Flame snapped edgily as the two dragons came to a halt in the centre of the cavern, "I just hate the way everyone treats him better than me!"

The grey dragon smirked knowingly and sat back on his haunches, "Sounds like jealousy to me."

Flame merely snorted in response and continued on with his rant, "Even worse is that the guardians are now making me do training to learn how to do things that I already know how to do! And Spyro's taking the training, too! So I have to put up with his cockiness almost every day! And they won't even let me fight him. Probably because they're afraid I'll beat him. It gets on my nerves…"

Alta's interest sparked again, "Training, you say? Training for what?"

"To learn how to fight and defend myself," Flame waved an impatient paw, "and maybe become Fire Guardian one day. They make us fight each other to practice, but they won't let me fight Spyro so I end up having to fight my best friend. And…I don't want to hurt _her_."

"Your mate?" Alta asked slyly, smirking and causing Flame's scales to blush an even darker red.

"No!" he spluttered, looking very embarrassed. "She's just a friend! …For now, anyway. And besides, she's always making eyes at that damn, purple freak."

"You _are _jealous," Alta accused, his laughter echoing hollowly around the cavern.

"I am not!" Flame protested, embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. "I just hate seeing Ember fawning over him!"

"Ember, is it?" Alta purred, catching the name. "That's a charming name. She must be very pretty."

Flame merely glared at him and didn't answer, his scales still burning with a deep blush. Alta chuckled again and Flame couldn't help but notice how empty it sounded. The grey dragon stretched out along the rocky floor, inviting Flame to sit down, spreading his wide, white wings across the rocks. Flame joined him, sitting down and hugging his paws close to his body as his tail swished backwards and forwards across the rocks. Alta looked across at him with that same expectant look in his eyes once more, his pale eyes shining with curiosity.

"Keep going," the grey dragon prompted. "Tell me about your friends and this purple dragon 'Spyro'. I'm listening."

By now Flame was beginning to warm up to Alta and he was eager to continue his rant about the purple dragon to someone who seemed interested. For the moment the red dragon pushed Warfang and the missing search party out of his mind.

"Ember and I have been friends since we were hatchlings," Flame mused, staring ahead as he thought back to his own childhood, "We were the only two dragons of our age in our tribe, so we were pretty close. Our home was a hidden place, safe from the outside world and untouched by the war that raged outside. I guess we had a pretty sheltered life. Then one day, only a few weeks ago, a group of unfamiliar dragons appeared in our hidden paradise. They were led by a purple dragon who was no older than me. Of course Thasos, my mentor, had told us stories of the Dark Master, a great purple dragon who was the cause of the war. I instantly assumed that this purple dragon was no different. He was the enemy. So I attacked him."

Flame snorted at the memory, a sour look on his face, and Alta leaned forwards, eagerly waiting for him to continue.

"He beat me," the red dragon admitted sourly. "For the first time since I was very young, I lost a fight that I'd started. But it wasn't a fair fight. That purple dragon used every one of the four elements without effort and still had energy for more. He's powerful, I'll give him that, but that's only because of these special abilities that his purple scales bestow on him. And, anyway, I wasn't prepared for it. Had I known beforehand that he had such abilities, I'm sure I would have been able to gain the advantage."

"You seem like a very proud dragon, Flame," Alta grinned, after Flame had paused for a moment. "But do you really think you'd be any match for a _purple _dragon? They have powers beyond even _your _imagination."

Flame glared at the grey dragon, "But that's just it! The only reason he's any better than me is because he's _purple_! If he had been a normal fire dragon there's no way I would have lost to him! Even with only one element I'm almost as powerful as he is with all four! While Spyro still wields all the elements it'll never be a fair fight! But I will beat him! I know I will! I just need to get him alone, so that those damn guardians don't interrupt us like they always do. I _will_ fight him again and I _will_ beat him!"

Alta was silent for a moment, with the echo of a sudden thought etched on his face as he scrutinised Flame's determined expression. After a moment, Alta's unnerving stare began to make Flame nervous and his determination wavered. But the grey dragon at last turned his blue eyes away and stared thoughtfully towards the far tunnel.

"I wonder," he murmured quietly, before turning to glance at the red dragon. "Flame, would you come with me? There's something I'd like you to see. I think you'd find it quite interesting."

Flame raised his eyebrows in surprise, curiosity evident in his gaze, and nodded slowly. Satisfied, Alta clambered back to his feet and beckoned for the red dragon to follow him across towards the dark tunnel at the far side of the cavern. There was something about the grey dragon's demeanour that sparked Flame's curiosity and he followed him eagerly into the tunnel. Alta led him through the darkness at a swift pace, turning corners occasionally into branching tunnels that Flame hadn't noticed at first. The fire lanterns on the walls of the tunnels seemed to become dimmer and dimmer the further they went, and a foreboding feeling began to descend on the red dragon.

But Alta continued to lead him deeper into the darkness of the tunnels, and soon Flame began to wonder if he'd ever find his way back out of this place. The hollow tapping of their claws on rock was the only sound in the silence of the cold caves, and Flame was tempted to breath fire to grant himself both light and warmth. But he refrained from doing so and kept his eyes on the tip of Alta's tail as his ivory tailblade swung back and forth in front of him. At last, after what seemed like hours and just as panic was beginning to set in on the red dragon, the tunnel opened up into a small chamber.

A single lantern swinging from the tapered roof was the only source of light and it cast long shadows around the room. The chamber wasn't very big and it seemed even smaller with the addition of several chests, shelves and podiums littered around the walls. Silver and other metals inlaid into the wooden chests and shelves glimmered in the firelight, and the wood itself almost appeared to be made from rich gold. The podiums were crafted from pale stone and inlaid with intricate patterns that swirled and interweaved eloquently like the paintings from Alta's cavern. Placed atop these podiums and along the shelves were odd objects of many different shapes and designs, things the likes of which Flame had never seen before.

Alta watched him as he gazed around the chamber in awe, staring at the strange objects, most of which appeared to be made of metal. Flame wondered if they were meant to be armour, but he had never seen armour like this before. It looked almost like jewellery and yet, at the same time, far too elaborate. Curious and confused, Flame turned a quizzical glance on the grey dragon.

"What is all this?"

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Alta asked, though the question seemed slightly rhetorical. "My clan and I come from a long line of seers and crafters who lived in solitude away from the rest of the dragon population. It has been a practice within our clan, for many generations, to create the artefacts you see here."

"Seers?" Flame raised an eyebrow and stared at the grey dragon. "Are you…?"

Alta stared straight back at him with an oddly amused glint in his eye, "That's the question, isn't it?"

Flame wasn't sure what to say to that and stood in silence, feeling both unsure and wary of the strange dragon.

"My brother was," Alta continued after a moment, "But whether or not I carry that same ability, the ability of the oracle, is something I don't share with others. But that's irrelevant, Flame. Are you not interested in these artefacts of my clan?"

Irritation and suspicion rose within Flame at the way in which Alta had changed the subject, but he let it be without any more questions. His golden eyes raked over the artefacts around him, but he could see no reason for their existence, these little pieces of elaborate jewellery.

"Artefacts?" Flame asked, slightly dubious. "What are they for?"

"A range of things," Alta purred vaguely, gazing at the artefacts that glimmered on the shelves. "Things to make life easier for dragons, to help them and assist them in things we might take for granted."

He strode forward and delicately plucked what looked like a silver circlet, twisted into strangely intricate patterns and inlaid with glittering red gems, from a shelf. Flame stared at it curiously, wondering what one was meant to do with such a thing.

"This one," Alta explained, cradling it in his claws, "is for healing. In case you're wondering, it's a tiara. You wear it on your head. It emits positive waves of energy that can heal many small wounds and injuries."

"And this," Alta set the circlet aside and picked up what looked like one in a set of anklets inlaid with green jewels, "is for recovering energy, rather than physical wounds. Many of these artefacts deal with other things and they are all beneficial to the wearer. You see?"

Flame stared at the artefact and nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess. Did your clan make them for themselves? Or did they take them to other dragon populations and sell them?"

Alta set the anklet carefully back on its podium, "Generally the artefacts were kept within our clan, but occasionally we'd give them to passing dragons who needed our help. Now that I am the last of my clan, these artefacts remain here unused. But there was one artefact in particular that I wanted to show you. I believe that it will be very useful to you."

Flame watched curiously as the grey dragon headed towards a large wooden chest against the wall of the chamber. Patterns in gold were set into the wood around the rim of the lid and the base of the chest. Carvings on the top of the chest that looked like letters spelled out words that Flame couldn't understand. Alta placed his paws on the rim of the lid and pushed it open, revealing a lining of red linen in both the chest and the underside of the curving lid. Flame leant forward, eager to see what was within the chest, but Alta blocked it from his view.

The grey dragon reached into the chest and lifted out something in his claws that Flame couldn't see. At last Alta turned around, holding in one paw a thick necklet made from what looked like transparent gold. Flame stared at the simple object, which seemed to exude a strange radiance, and saw the hint of strange runes on its surface. It seemed quite plain, however, amongst the other elaborate artefacts around the chamber. Alta, though, treated it like it was made of glass.

"This," said the grey dragon, "is a rather special artefact and the only one of its kind. It's made from a very special type of gem, the likes of which aren't very easy to find. I gather you'd like to know what it does?"

Flame nodded eagerly, enchanted by the transparent necklet, which seemed to glow with a golden light. Flashes of colours Flame couldn't describe flickered across its surface every now and then, mesmerising and beautiful.

Alta smiled softly, "This necklet enhances the wearers elemental power. It doesn't matter which element you control, as long as you are wearing this it will become stronger. Your fire will be almost unstoppable with this artefact, Flame. With this you'd have every chance of defeating the purple dragon Spyro."

Flame eyes widened, "It'll…make me stronger?"

"Just your elemental attacks," Alta warned. "But I'm sure it'll be more than enough to assist you. So what do you think, Flame? I'm willing to give it to you. Will you accept it?"

Had he had a little more common sense, Flame may have refused the offer. But the red dragon, blinded by greed and the opportunity to defeat his rival, barely hesitated to take it. He may have noticed the triumphant light in Alta's eyes as he took the necklet from his paws, but he was too fixated on the glimmering artefact to see. As though it was the most delicate thing he had ever held, Flame cradled the transparent artefact in his paws and grinned at Alta.

"You're willing to give this to me after only knowing me for an hour or so?" Flame smirked. "You're a trusting dragon, Alta."

Alta smiled benignly, "A friend is a friend, Flame, no matter how long we've known one another. I hope you manage to defeat your rival, though with that artefact in your possession I have no doubt that you will. Go on, put it on."

Grinning, Flame lifted the necklet towards his neck. Like a snake of liquid it appeared to unwind and curled itself around the red dragon's neck before settling back into a solid ring just above his collarbone. Flame strained to stare down at it and saw with shock that it appeared to have copied the pattern and colour of his scales. He realised with a start that it was now no longer visible to anyone except those who knew it was there. Triumphant, Flame grinned appreciatively at the grey dragon.

"There," Alta smiled, "now no one will know it's there. It can be our little secret."

"I owe you one, Alta," Flame smirked, with the satisfying knowledge of unequalled power around his neck.

"Not at all, not at all. That's what friends do. I gather you'll be returning to Warfang now?"

Flame nodded, "Right. I better get back before they send someone out to look for me, or before they blame Ember."

"Come then," Alta beckoned, "I'll lead you back to the surface."

The two young dragons headed away from the chamber of artefacts and back into the winding tunnels on their way back to the surface. Once they reached the cavern in which Flame had first met Alta, the red dragon bid farewell to his newfound friend.

"I can find my way from here," he told the grey dragon and turned to leave. "Thanks."

"Any time, Flame," Alta purred, watching as the red dragon wandered slowly away.

But Flame stopped suddenly, a thought coming over him, and turned back to the grey dragon. Alta looked at him curiously.

"Hey," Flame said, "why don't you come back to Warfang with me? It's a big place, but it's not too crowded. I'm sure you'll be welcomed."

Alta stared at him for a moment before answering with a sigh, "I don't think so, Flame. I told you before that the sun isn't kind to me and I prefer to stay underground. Besides, I've lived here alone for such a long time now, it'd be strange to leave. I'll be staying here, but Flame…"

Flame blinked, "What?"

"Do come visit some time, won't you?" Alta asked, smiling. "I don't get much company down here."

The red dragon flashed a grin and raised a wing in farewell, "Sure thing, Alta. See you around."

"Good luck!" Alta yelled after him as he disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel back to the surface.

As fast as he could, Flame rocketed through the tunnel, back past the huge entrance cavern and up the tunnel towards the light. He shot out into the outside world and was instantly assaulted by the evening light of the sun. Hovering above the rocks, Flame looked around at his surroundings and saw the sun was edging closer and closer towards the horizon. He hadn't realised he'd been down there so long. Eager to return to Warfang now that he had in his possession something that he was sure would help him to defeat Spyro, Flame shot off over the trees back towards the dam. All previous thoughts of the missing search party were forgotten.

Alta sat for a moment until he was absolutely sure the red dragon was gone, before turning around and heading back towards the artefact chamber. His walk was slow as he mused to himself, smirking at his own ingenuity.

"What a gullible dragon," Alta chuckled to no one, his voice echoing through the tunnels. "I seem to have struck lucky today. Who would have thought that the very first dragon I come across would have ties to the _purple_ dragon? Fate is on my side."

He was silent for another few moments as he approached the chamber of artefacts, but there was clear triumph on his face. Entering the chamber, Alta turned his gaze to the artefacts that lined the walls around him.

"A necklet than enhances elemental power," he mused, smirking, "I surprise myself sometimes. It's a shame such a thing was never created, or thought of."

The grey dragon wandered towards the now empty chest and placed his paws on the open lid, running a paw over the gold trimming around the rim.

"Not that I should be surprised," Alta smirked and snapped the lid shut, running a claw over the carved runes on the top of the chest. "After all, we oracle dragons deal mostly in powers of the mind."

"And, of course," the grey dragon chuckled softly, his pale blue eyes glinting in the firelight, "mind control."

**A/N: Short chapter is short. Shorter than the others, anyway. At last, I have introduced my main OC, although he's a little strange. Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Big thank you to every one of my reviewers, I love you all!**


	14. Lies and Planning

**14. Lies and Planning**

Thasos paced the battlements anxiously, his eyes shifting nervously from the city to the sky and back again every few moments. The skies were empty of dragons, which only succeeded in feeding the orange dragon's worries, and the afternoon streets, too, seemed coldly vacant. Not far from Thasos, treading his own worried circle on the battlements, was Milos. The two dragons had been watching the skies for hours now, although both continued to shoot anxious glances back towards the city, and there had been no sign of any incoming dragons. Thasos was at his wit's end, his hopes dropping by the minute.

The beating of wings and the scraping of claws on stone startled the fire guardian, and he jerked towards the sound to see that Sestos had just landed beside him. The blue dragon wasn't looking any less anxious than Thasos, and the orange dragon felt his hopes sink even more, if that was possible.

"There's no sign of them," Sestos sighed, his eyes jerking back towards the city anxiously as his voice rose a few octaves in worry, "and we searched everywhere! There's just no sign of them! They're not in the city, there's no way we could have overlooked them after searching for so long! They must have gone after Spyro, there's no other explanation!"

Thasos gave a groan of worry at Sestos's report and turned one more hopeful glance at the sky; but it was empty. Milos padded over to them, his tail twitching anxiously, his brown eyes shining with worry and shame.

"This is our fault," the green dragon sighed, "if we had kept a closer watch on Flame and Ember…"

Sestos moaned in agreement and dipped his head, but Thasos shook his head and attempted in vain to look supportive. "Do not blame yourselves! The guardians are still looking! They may be in the city yet, just be patient! Even if Flame did sneak out, you cannot hold yourself responsible. The three of us have known him since he was an egg, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who knows how slippery and stubborn that young dragon can be."

"True, true," Milos sighed and exchanged a worried glance with Sestos. "But let's just hope you're right, Thasos, and Flame still is in the city."

But at that precise moment their hopes were dashed as the three guardians came soaring towards them, with no sign of Flame and with worry and annoyance etched on their faces. There was only one conclusion to be drawn from their expressions, and Thasos didn't need to hear them say it to know what it was.

"We couldn't find either of them," Terrador growled bluntly, his annoyance half-masked by worry, as he alighted on the battlements beside the others.

"It is as though they've vanished into thin air!" Cyril exclaimed, before muttering dryly, "…or snuck out of the city."

"We've searched through every nook and cranny, but it appears they have vacated the premises," agreed Volteer, shaking his yellow head.

Thasos heaved a sigh, "Then we can only hope that they've managed to avoid any danger, and that they'll return soon with Spyro. I'm sorry, Terrador, I should have known Flame would try something like this."

"Yes, but not Ember," Sestos cut in, before Terrador could chide Thasos for apologising, "I would never have expected something like this from that young dragoness. Perhaps Flame has been a bad influence on her."

Thasos looked for a moment as though he was about to reply, but seem to think better of it and instead turned his gaze once more to the distant horizon. A few seconds passed before the orange dragon realised just what he was seeing. There were dark shapes in the sky, unmistakably dragons, soaring fast towards the city. Instantly Thasos felt hope spring anew in his heart, and his eyes lit up like a thousand suns.

"Look, Terrador! Spyro; Spyro is returning!"

Startled, Terrador turned wide eyes to the sky and saw that Thasos had indeed spoken the truth. Cyril squinted at the approaching dragons, his brow furrowing.

"Have they brought the search party back?" The ice guardian wondered aloud.

But Terrador shook his head, "No. I sent six out to search, and it appears that only six have returned. The search party is not with them."

"Flame and Ember?" Sestos asked hopefully, who was craning his head over Volteer's shoulder to get a better look.

Terrador was about to reply with a negative, when Thasos spotted something that the earth guardian had not. There weren't six dragons flying towards them, there were seven. And one of them was just the right size to be either Flame or Ember.

"There's an extra dragon with them, Terrador!" Thasos cried. "Look!"

Every dragon atop the battlements stared hard at the approaching group, and it was Milos who shouted what they wanted to hear.

"It's Ember! She's with them!"

"Thank the ancestors." Thasos breathed in relief. "She's safe."

"But what of Flame?" Terrador voiced what they were all thinking, his deep voice rumbling ominously.

No one answered him, and they remained silent as they watched the approach of Spyro and his group. Ember was flying close between Seriphos and the purple dragon, a sheepish and guilty look on her face. There was no sign of Flame, however, so the young dragon's whereabouts remained a mystery. Terrador lifted a wing in greeting when he felt that Spyro was close enough to see it, and was pleased to see the purple dragon wave a paw in response. The earth guardian gestured for Spyro to follow him, and then leapt from the balcony to land in the nearest courtyard. Thasos and the other dragons on the battlements followed close behind him as Spyro soared overhead.

The purple dragon led his group down to meet Terrador in the courtyard, looking over his shoulder to make sure that everyone was following. Ember landed behind him, cowering at the glances she was receiving from the guardians, and averted her eyes shamefully. Terrador waited for Spyro to speak, but he already knew what the young dragon was about to say.

"We didn't find the search party," the purple dragon sighed. "I'm sorry. And…we ran into a spot of trouble."

"That's putting it mildly," Sparx grumbled quietly, though his words went ignored.

Terrador looked the group over, noticing their tired and weary state. His gaze didn't miss the puncture wound in Naxos's shoulder, the cut above Seriphos's eye, or the large gash on Spyro's foreleg. His eyes shifted to Cynder and Ember, and noticed with relief that both dragonesses appeared to be unharmed. But it did little to quell his concern.

"What happened?" the earth guardian queried, watching Spyro with a concerned eye.

"Grublins," Seriphos answered before Spyro could speak.

"They attacked us," Cynder added, "and then Ember appeared."

"We thought it best that we return," Spyro nodded, glancing back at Ember briefly, "You've probably been looking for her, haven't you?"

Thasos glanced sternly at the young pink dragoness and nodded, "We have. But she's not the only one…"

Ember's eyes widened in alarm, but no one seemed to notice her reaction and Spyro looked quizzically at the fire guardian. Terrador provided the answer to Spyro's unspoken question.

"Flame's been missing since this morning, perhaps longer," the earth guardian turned his stern glance to Ember. "I don't suppose you've seen him?"

The pink dragoness shook her head quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, and Terrador's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Spyro exchanged a glance with Cynder, both of them curious, and she merely shrugged.

"We haven't seen him," Spyro said, turning back to the guardians. "It was only Ember who we ran in to. She said she'd snuck out alone."

"Oh did she?" Cyril turned a suspicious glance on the cowering dragoness, and she didn't have the courage to meet his eyes.

Spyro hesitated and glanced at Ember, who was looking at him with pleading eyes. The purple dragon heaved a sigh and turned to Thasos.

"Are you sure Flame isn't in the city? He could be hiding."

Thasos shook his head slowly, "We've been searching for hours, and there's been no sign of him. We believe he is no longer in the city."

Ember glanced timidly up at the guardians, quivering under their suspicious gazes. Had Spyro been able to read minds, the purple dragon may have known that she was currently wrestling with her own guilt. The pink dragoness knew that she could find herself in lots of strife if she told them that she'd lied, and Flame had in fact snuck out with her. But she also knew that if she didn't tell them they'd only continue to worry, and Flame could be in danger out there. Ember chewed on her lip, trembling as she tried to make a decision, put on the spot underneath the stern gazes of the guardians.

At last Spyro couldn't stand the sight of the quivering dragoness any longer, and he spoke up on her behalf.

"I don't think Ember would lie to us," he said, unknowingly making the pink dragoness feel worse. "Warfang is a big place, and there are many places for a dragon to hide. Flame may still be in the city. We'll help you search."

Terrador hesitated, gazing down at Spyro's determined face. At last he sighed and shrugged in agreement, much to Ember's relief.

"Alright, then," the earth guardian said, "We'll keep searching. Delos, take Naxos to the infirmary to get that wound healed. Chios, go with them to make sure they don't get into any mischief."

"Gotcha," Chios grinned, and led the two boys away, ignoring the annoyed glare that Delos was shooting Naxos.

Ember watched the three dragons leave and suddenly turned to Terrador, attempting to look confident, "I'll help search, too!"

But Terrador wasn't about to agree to that so easily, "You, young dragoness, are heading straight to your room. You've got a lot to explain. Thasos, I'll leave you to escort her."

"But—" Ember began, only to be cut off by Thasos.

"Understood, Terrador," the fire guardian agreed, and extended a wing around the young dragoness, "Come along, Ember. You and I are going to have a little chat."

Ember turned her pleading gaze on Spyro, but he only shrugged apologetically and did nothing. Hanging her head, Ember allowed herself to be escorted by Thasos back towards her room. Terrador waited until they were gone before he addressed Spyro.

"Spyro, your leg," the earth guardian murmured, gazing at the wound with concern.

"I'll be fine," the purple dragon insisted quickly, shifting his other leg in front of the wound and hiding it from view. "We should start looking for Flame as soon as possible."

"Very well," Terrador sighed, and glanced towards the sun, "We have only a few more hours of daylight. Split into pairs and search the city, as thoroughly as you can. Seriphos, you come with me."

The remaining dragons quickly arranged themselves into pairs, Spyro with Cynder, Cyril with Volteer, and Sestos with Milos, leaving Sparx to grumble about being left out. Terrador instructed them to return to the main courtyard by sundown, and the search commenced. Spyro and Cynder headed towards the southern area of the city, leaving Sparx to search on his own.

The two young dragons had decided to search from the air, mostly because of Spyro's injured leg. Cynder continuously shot him concerned glances, worried by his injury.

"Are you sure you're okay, Spyro?" she asked at last, still cringing at the sight of the gash in his leg. "That wound looks pretty painful."

Spyro shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile, "It's fine, Cynder. It's just a scratch. I've had worse, believe me."

Cynder's concern didn't abate, "I know, but…"

"We can worry about it later," Spyro insisted, cutting her off. "It's not life threatening, and we need to find Flame. Come on, if he's hiding we'll be able to find him easier on the ground."

Cynder didn't get a chance to argue as Spyro soared back down to the ground. She followed suit and landed next to him, making sure his injured leg could still hold his weight. Spyro flinched from shock as Cynder's warm body pressed against his side, and she nuzzled beneath his wing. Blushing, Spyro turned his eyes on her, wondering what she was doing.

"You shouldn't be walking on that injured leg," the black dragoness teased, "I'll support you, okay?"

Spyro felt the blood rush to his cheeks and quickly turned his face away from her, hoping she hadn't seen, "O-Okay."

The two young dragons headed down the street, continuing their search slowly and steadily, scrutinising every hidden crevice and every darkened corner. Spyro was grateful for Cynder's supporting shoulder, and was glad to be able to walk only on his three good legs, with the injured leg tucked up against his chest. He was almost unable to keep his mind on the search, preoccupied by her warm flank pressed against his and their tails entwined together. For once, Spyro was glad Sparx wasn't there to ruin the moment.

Their search was slow and silent, though Spyro wished he could think of something to say. They were both tired, and Cynder was longing to crawl into her room and sleep after the long flight. But both continued on, searching everywhere that seemed suspicious, poking their heads into spare rooms and dusty cupboards, peeking under bushes and shrubs for any sign of the red dragon. But Flame remained unfound, and the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky. Eventually, when the setting sun had turned the sky a brilliant golden orange, Spyro and Cynder knew it was time to head for the courtyard.

Both young dragons were hoping that one of the other pairs had somehow found Flame, but their hopes were dashed when they arrived at the courtyard to see the others waiting for them and no Flame in sight. Spyro heaved a sigh and leant against Cynder, limping beside her over towards the other dragons. Terrador's gaze filled with worry as he watched Spyro limping, but the purple dragon reassured him with a strained smile.

"I gather you didn't find him?" Cyril asked, and heaved a sigh when Spyro shook his head.

"What'll we do, Terrador?" Volteer asked, turning to the earth dragon for guidance.

The large green dragon hesitated and gazed once more at the sky, defeated as he watched the last of the sun's rays sink into darkness.

"There's nothing we can do for now," Terrador replied. "It's too late to send out a search party. We'll have to wait until morning. I just hope Flame isn't in trouble. We can't afford to lose another dragon, especially a young one like Flame."

"Who's losing who now?" asked a new voice, and the dragons turned in shock to see Sparx floating smugly behind them with his arms crossed.

Standing beside the yellow dragonfly was a very disgruntled red dragon, the very object of their search. Flame glared at the stunned guardians, secretly glad that he'd managed to run into Sparx.

"Flame!" Terrador gasped. "You're here!"

"Well, yeah," Flame scoffed, snorting his annoyance, "Where'd you think I'd be?"

Anger instantly overtook any relief that the earth guardian was feeling at the sight of Flame's apathetic attitude, "Do you have any idea how long we have been searching for you, young dragon? We've searched this city for hours, with absolutely no sign of you! Do you have any idea what you put us through? We thought you might have gone after Spyro, and gotten lost or injured somewhere! And now you dare to stand here before me with that smug attitude! Explain yourself! Where have you _been_?"

The other dragons cowered away from Terrador's angry, booming voice, and even Flame was tempted to back off from the fuming guardian. But he was a stubborn young dragon, and stared straight back into Terrador's furious eyes.

"I've been in the city the whole time!" Flame lied, attempting to sound indignant, "You just weren't looking hard enough!"

Terrador's scales almost stood on end as he trembled with anger, "Is that so, young dragon? I have had dragons search this city so thoroughly that even a rodent wouldn't have been missed! So tell me, how did we miss you?"

Flame hesitated for a split second, and Spyro's suspicion instantly rose. But the red dragon quickly shot a comeback at the earth guardian, determinedly sticking to his story.

"I just didn't want to be found!" Flame growled. "You locked me up in my own room, and I managed to escape! Did you really think I'd have wanted you to find me after that? I'm a lot smaller than you, Terrador, and it's not that hard to hide from blundering dragons like yourself, especially in a city this large!"

The other dragons hesitated, exchanging glances with on another. They all knew that Flame spoke the truth. It would have been easy for a small dragon like him to hide from them in this huge city, especially if he didn't want to be found. Terrador wasn't so easily convinced though, but the earth guardian knew there was no way he could get Flame to change his story.

"Very well, Flame," Terrador glared sternly down at him, "I'll believe you for now. But I want a word with you first thing tomorrow, and you are going to tell me the whole story, understood? I've a feeling there's something you're not telling me."

Flame snorted and turned his gaze away from the earth guardian, "Whatever."

"Good," Terrador turned his gaze then on Sparx. "Well done, Sparx, for finding him. I'm going to escort this young dragon back to his room. The rest of you may retire for the night."

As Spyro and Cynder turned to leave, the earth guardian called them back, "Spyro, be sure to check in to the infirmary first. I want that wound sorted out before tomorrow's training. Goodnight, young dragons."

"Yes, Terrador," Spyro replied with some reluctance, still leaning on Cynder. "Goodnight."

Terrador turned swiftly, guiding Flame beside him, and disappeared into the darkness of the city. Spyro stood for a while, gazing at the spot from which Flame and the Earth Guardian had vanished, until Cynder nudged him. Sparx was bobbing above their headings, gloating in his 'victory', but both dragons ignored him.

"Come on, Spyro," Cynder prompted. "We'd better head to the infirmary before the moles close for the night."

"Yeah," Spyro replied quietly and together they hobbled towards the infirmary.

The infirmary was mostly empty when Cynder led Spyro into the large building. There were only two moles in the building, and neither of them seemed too pleased to see a patient walk in. The black dragoness led Spyro over to them and he limped beside her, careful to keep the weight off his injured leg. One of the moles looked him over with a scrutinising eye and then directed him to a bed of cushions, one of many lined up against the walls.

"Sit down, young dragon," the mole prompted, and Spyro did so, as the other mole hovered nervously behind his workmate.

The first mole took Spyro's injured leg in his tiny hands, gazing at the nasty gash that leaked blood over his purple scales. His scowl deepened and Cynder shifted nervously, waiting to see what the mole would say. Sparx was hovering above her, and appeared to have finally stopped bragging about finding Flame.

"You've done yourself a nasty one," the mole said, clicking his tongue in disapproval, before turning to the other mole. "Get us some crystals, would you?"

"Gotcha!" the other mole sprang to attention, much to Cynder's amusement, and then scurried through a doorway into an adjoining room.

The first mole set Spyro's paw down as he waited for his companion to return, and Cynder edged forwards timidly.

"Will it be okay?" she asked, and the mole raised an eyebrow.

"It's just a cut, miss dragoness," the mole stated, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It'll be fine once we get some red crystals into it."

'_Red crystals?_' For a moment Cynder wasn't sure what he meant, until the other mole dashed back into the room with his arms full of shining red gems.

"Ohhh," Cynder purred, suddenly understanding, "Of course. Those crystals. We used them a lot on our travels, didn't we, Spyro?"

Spyro nodded in agreement, watching as the mole placed the crystals against either side of his leg. The gems felt cold and smooth against his scales, but moments later a strange warmth began to radiate from them and they appeared to glow like fire. Sparx had seen this many times before, but it still seemed strange to him and he watched in awe as the red gems appeared to sink into the scales of Spyro's leg. For a split second, the purple dragon's foreleg glowed with a warming red light, and the edges of the wound began to stitch themselves together. When the light faded, Spyro wiggled his healed leg and grinned thankfully at the two moles.

"There," said the first mole, folding his arms with an air of triumph, "all fixed. Off you go now, young dragon, and try not to get into any more trouble. I'd like to sleep tonight, too."

"Thanks!" Spyro beamed and jumped to his feet, testing his leg.

Cynder quickly followed after him as he headed for the exit, calling thanks back to the two moles as Sparx rewarded them with a brief thumbs-up. Exhausted, both young dragons headed instantly for their rooms and neither of them thought twice about Flame's suspicious story or the still missing search party.

* * *

Flame was woken early the next morning, much to his chagrin, by the ice guardian. Though he grumbled and complained, Cyril paid no attention to his whining and escorted him down to the western courtyard. Ember was already there, standing nervously beside Terrador and Thasos, and her eyes lit up with relief and surprise when she saw her friend.

"Flame!" She cried when Cyril led the red dragon into the courtyard, "You're—!"

Ember stopped herself just in time. She had been about to yell 'you're back!' but realised how suspicious that would have sounded to the guardians. So instead she settled on looking at Terrador and saying timidly, "You found him."

"Sparx found him," the earth guardian corrected bluntly. "He tells us he was hiding in the city all along. What do you make of that, Ember?"

The pink dragoness hesitated and glanced at Flame, who glared back at her a silent order not to contradict him.

"If that's what he says, I believe him," Ember replied, holding her head up and flashing a swift grin at her friend.

"Hmph," was Terrador's only reply.

Ember slunk carefully to Flame's side as Cyril went to stand beside the other guardians. Volteer was nowhere to be seen. The three guardians looked over the young ones sternly, and Flame gave Ember a swift, meaningful look. She gave the slightest of nods in reply, and hoped the guardians hadn't seen.

"Young dragons," Terrador began, "I've called you out here to speak to you about your foolish and disobedient actions. I will ask you to tell us where you were and what you were doing yesterday, and I expect you to answer me the whole and complete truth. Is that clear?"

Both young dragons nodded quickly, but both knew that the truth wasn't something they were about to speak. Flame had been relieved to reach Warfang just as the sun went down, and had been surprised to have Sparx bear down on him yelling 'found you!' and looking very triumphant indeed. It had worked well in the red dragon's favour, however, helping to convince the guardians that he really had been in the city the whole time. But now Flame knew he had to pull a few lies out of his scales to get them to truly believe his story.

"Flame," Terrador turned on the red dragon first, "explain to me. When did you manage to escape your room?"

"At dawn yesterday," Flame lied without hesitation, "I snuck out when Sestos was sleeping."

The red dragon attempted not to shake under Terrador's scrutinising gaze, and dearly hoped that Sestos actually _had _fallen asleep. Otherwise, they'd see through his lie instantly. But Terrador nodded once, and Flame sighed inwardly in relief.

"Very well. Where did you go after you snuck out of your room?"

Flame hesitated as he thought up a quick answer, and hoped Terrador didn't notice, "I went to the gardens, to hide. There are fruit trees there, too, so it was a good place to get breakfast."

The red dragon was glad he had noticed the fruit trees in the garden, and inwardly smirked at his own genius lie. Terrador nodded once more, believing Flame's woven tale.

"How long did you stay in the gardens?" the earth guardian asked.

"Until I was unable to stay there without being seen," Flame replied carefully, "I didn't want to be found and kept moving hiding positions to escape the dragons who were searching for me."

"Why didn't you want to be found?" Terrador asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Why do you think?" Flame growled in irritation. "You locked me up in my own room! I wanted some time to myself!"

"Fine," Terrador said quickly, before Flame could continue his rant, "But tell me this: did you not think of going after Spyro?"

Flame's golden eyes narrowed, and he felt Ember tremble beside him. But the red dragon was ready with another lie.

"I thought about it," he admitted, "but I didn't know which way they'd gone. I decided to stay in the city."

Terrador asked no more questions, merely staring Flame down as though he thought his stern gaze would make the red dragon break and spit out a confession. But Flame remained strong and met Terrador's gaze with determination and just a little defiance. At last the earth guardian gave one final nod, indicating he had chosen to believe Flame's story.

"If that is the truth," Terrador said, "then I have no choice but to believe you. I'll ask you not to do such a thing again, Flame. We were very worried about you."

"Right," Flame mumbled, and turned his face away and said no more.

Now it was Ember's turn and Flame felt her tremble when Terrador turned his gaze on her. The red dragon could only hope that the pink dragoness managed to stick to her story, and didn't him give away. After telling all those lies, Flame knew his fate rested on Ember's shoulders.

"Now then, Ember," Terrador's gaze was even sterner than it had been before. "You have a lot of explaining to do. Tell us exactly what happened after Spyro and his group left. No lies now, young dragoness."

Ember hesitated, quivering nervously and shot Flame an anxious glance before she began to speak. She told Terrador everything, about how she had snuck out after distracting Sestos with the fire in the gardens, how she had seen which way Spyro had gone, how she had followed them to the dam and spent the night in a tiny cave, and how she had come across them fighting grublins and gone to help. There was only one thing she omitted, and that was that she had done it all with Flame. Terrador listened to her story in silence, never questioning her, and waited patiently until she had finished.

"Ember," the earth guardian said, after the pink dragoness had fallen quiet, "thank you for telling me. I can see that you are telling the truth. However, I must stress to you the seriousness of your actions. That was a very foolish thing to do. Had you become lost or injured, no one would have been there to help you. I'm sure you have noticed the dire situation of the dragon race at the moment? We simply cannot afford to lose even one dragon, especially a young dragon such as you. You are the future of our race, Ember. I would never have expected such foolish actions from you, but I see I was wrong. This is your warning, Ember, but if you ever attempt such a dangerous endeavour again, I'll not be so lenient. Is that clear, young dragoness?"

"Y-Yes," Ember whispered, bowing her head so low her brow almost touched the ground.

"Good," Terrador gave the two young dragons one last stern glance, and his gaze softened slightly, "I suggest you head for the main hall for breakfast. Remember, I want you back here at midday for training."

"Yes, Terrador," the young dragons chorused, before scampering away from the courtyard.

The guardians stood for a while in silence, unmoving, each with their own thoughts. At last Thasos broke the silence and turned to the earth guardian.

"You believe they were speaking the truth?" He asked, still hesitant about the legitimacy of their tales.

Terrador glanced at him and then turned his gaze to the sky, "We have no choice but to believe them. And it didn't seem like Ember was lying. Younglings will be younglings, though, Thasos. Even if they haven't spoken the whole truth, I'm sure nothing bad could come of it. They are both back, safe and sound."

"But the search party is not," Cyril pointed out.

"I know," Terrador sighed and began moving towards the main hall, "I'll have a word with Spyro and Seriphos after Spyro's training. Whatever they ran into out there, it seems the world isn't as free of danger as we would have hoped."

Flame waited until they were well away from the courtyard, and out of earshot of the guardians, until he spoke to Ember. She was still looking jittery, perhaps feeling guilty about lying.

"Nice job," he complimented, smirking, "They fell for that one. They're pretty tolerant of you, aren't they? I bet they wouldn't have gone so easy on me had they known _I _snuck out. Thanks for not telling them."

To his surprise, Ember replied with a cold glare and snorted smoke at him, "Don't thank me for lying! I hate lying! And you! If you had just told the truth I wouldn't have had to lie!"

"I'm sorry!" Flame said, sounding more surprised than apologetic, "But who knows what sort of punishment they would have given me! I don't really want to be imprisoned in my room again!"

Ember gave another disgruntled snort, "What did you do after I left, anyway? Did you follow behind us? Or did you decide to go searching on your own, huh? I wouldn't be surprised."

Flame hesitated, wondering whether he should tell her the truth or not. He usually told Ember everything, and trusted her more than anyone else, but something was stopping him. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the strange artefact around his neck, hidden from view, which stopped him from telling her what had occurred. It was his secret, and he wasn't about to spill it to anyone, not even Ember.

"I followed behind you," Flame lied, and instantly felt guilty for it.

"Oh yeah?" Ember glared at him suspiciously. "I didn't see you."

"Of course not," Flame said quickly, thinking up a swift excuse, "If you could have seen me, Spyro could have. I had to keep out of sight!"

Ember glared at him, and Flame thought for a minute that she might have seen through his lies. But she tossed her head in the air and trotted away from him, calling back.

"Whatever! But don't do it again!"

Flame glared after her, "It was _your_ idea to sneak out!"

But she made no reply and he watched her trot into the main hall, her head held high. The red dragon glared at the ground, surprised at how much it had stung to lie to Ember. He raised a paw to his chest and felt the cold surface of the necklet settled above his collarbone, as though making sure it was still there. This was the key to defeating Spyro, and Flame knew he couldn't tell Ember about it. All he needed was a little time and a way to get Spyro alone, and then he could finally show that cocky dragon up. But for that to work, Flame knew he had to keep the necklet secret. Even from Ember.

* * *

Training for the young dragons didn't last long that day. All four of them seemed very distracted, and even Terrador appeared to have other things on his mind. Spyro heaved a sigh as the earth guardian summoned another three puppets, and destroyed them all with a few shorts bursts of fire. Beside him, Cynder was using her shadow element to suffocate her puppets, but seemed rather distracted.

"Focus!" Terrador roared as Cynder's shadow breath fizzled and died.

She heaved a sigh and sat back on her haunches as the earth guardian dismissed the puppets.

"I'm sorry, Terrador," Cynder apologised, "I just can't seem to concentrate today."

The earth guardian sighed and nodded in understanding, "I know. There must be a lot on your minds."

He turned towards Flame and Ember, who had long since given up fighting the puppets and were watching Spyro and Cynder with little interest. Spyro coughed, expelling smoke, and watched at his last puppet disappeared with a flash.

"I think we'll leave it at that for today," Terrador sighed, defeated. "I'm afraid I can't concentrate very well, either. Flame, Ember, you can have the rest of the day to yourselves. Spyro, Cynder, come with me. There's a lot we need to discuss."

"Right," Spyro mumbled, rubbing ash from his muzzle.

Flame and Ember left the courtyard without argument, although the red dragon gave Spyro one last challenging glare before following the pink dragoness. Cynder and Spyro allowed Terrador to lead them towards the Atrium where Thasos was already waiting with Seriphos. The fire guardian looked over the two young dragons, noticing their tired and distracted demeanours.

"Training didn't go well?" Thasos asked with an amused grin.

Spyro heaved a sigh, "We just couldn't concentrate."

"There's too much to think about," Cynder agreed, knowing why Terrador had led them over here. "That's what you want to talk about isn't it? About what happened yesterday…"

"That's right," Thasos confirmed, before turning to Terrador, "Volteer and Cyril are waiting within."

Terrador nodded, and together the dragons entered the Atrium. Spyro looked back at the sunlit midday sky almost longingly before stepping to the dark and musty building. Inside the Atrium, Volteer and Cyril were waiting for them, their faces more serious than usual. Spyro knew what was expected of him and, with the help of Seriphos and Cynder, relayed to the guardians all that had occurred during their search for the missing search party. It was draining for the young dragon, who would have much rather enjoyed his time outside in the city with Cynder. But, as the purple dragon, his duties came first.

"Interesting," Terrador said, after Spyro had at last finished his narrative, "It is as we feared. Malefor's forces have not been completely eradicated from this world. I had thought the grublins were all gone, but it seems I was wrong. Cyril, what do you make of this?"

The ice guardian thought about it for a while, "It's not surprising that some remnants of Malefor's army still remain, however, it does surprise me that they are still hostile. Without Malefor to manipulate them, I cannot see any reason for their continued hostility! It is most peculiar. Spyro, did you notice anything in the grublin camp, anything that would suggest they were being controlled by someone?"

But the purple dragon shook his head and the guardians continued their discussion. Their voices faded to a distant buzz as Spyro's mind wandered, and the purple dragon found himself staring at the pale walls of the Atrium, his eyes out of focus. The air in here was warm and musty, not entirely pleasant, and it made the young dragon feel sleepy and lightheaded. Terrador's voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Spyro!" he called, causing the purple dragon's head to shoot up, "You may leave if you wish."

"Thanks, Terrador," Spyro mumbled, and rose up off his haunches, "Cynder, let's go."

Cynder didn't argue, flashing the guardians a swift smile of thanks before dashing after the purple dragon. It was a relief for both of them to walk out into the fresh air outside the Atrium, but Spyro's despondent expression didn't appear to abate. Cynder nudged him gently, catching his attention.

"Spyro? Is everything okay?"

The purple dragon looked at her briefly and then turned his gaze to the city, his eyes glassy and blank as though his mind was elsewhere. Cynder's expression turned to one of concern as she waited for him to answer her. At last Spyro sighed and commenced a slow walk through the city.

"It's just," he murmured, "well…I thought it was all over. I thought that after we defeated Malefor that everything would be fine again. I thought that we wouldn't need to fear the outside world anymore, that there would no longer be any creatures out there that were hostile to dragons. But…nothing seems to have changed! Grublins are still running amok outside, dragons have gone missing, and we're stuck in this city trying to figure out why!"

Spyro turned on Cynder swiftly, his eyes filled with a sort of desperation, "I wanted to enjoy a time of peace, not deal with all the problems that Malefor left behind! It's not fair that I should have to deal with it all, just because I'm the _purple_ dragon! I thought saving the world would be enough!"

The purple dragon sighed and bowed his head, leaving Cynder standing stunned, "But, it seems like nothing I do will ever be enough. This world will never be at peace…"

"Don't say that!" Cynder snapped suddenly, startling Spyro and causing him to fall back on his haunches.

"Don't say that," Cynder repeated, softer this time, and shifted closer to him, nuzzling beneath his chin, "We can deal with this…I know we can."

Spyro emitted a sigh, closing his eyes, and wrapped his wings around the black dragoness, "Cynder…"

The sound of trotting paws startled the two young dragons, and they leapt apart just as Ember came trotting around the corner. She beamed at the two of them and hurried over, much to Cynder's annoyance. Spyro was instantly on the alert, but there didn't seem to be any sign of Flame. There was an oddly mischievous glint in Ember's azure eyes, and Spyro wasn't sure he liked it.

"Hey, Spyro," Ember beamed, before adding, "and Cynder."

"Ember," Spyro sighed, still feeling particularly flat and somewhat exasperated, "what's up?"

"Nothing," she replied, smirking, and leant closer to him, "But you look like you could use a walk. Come on!"

"Huh?" Spyro blinked, slightly confused as she wrapped her tail around his ankle.

"Hey!" Cynder stepped forwards, looking quite irate, "I was talking with him!"

Ember merely smiled innocently at her, "Don't worry, I won't keep him for long! Come on, Spyro!"

The purple dragon stumbled after her as she pulled him along with her tail, "Hey! But…hang on…!"

Ember ignored his stuttering and pulled him away towards the gardens, leaving Cynder standing stunned, alone, and annoyed in the middle of the street. Spyro was relieved when Ember finally released her hold on his ankle, and looked longing back towards Cynder, but she was already gone. He turned to Ember, who was trotting merrily towards the gardens and beckoning for him to follow.

"What was that about?" Spyro asked, exasperated and slightly annoyed.

"What?" Ember asked, as innocent as ever, "I just thought you could use a walk!"

"I was walking with _Cynder_," Spyro grumbled quietly, and noticed with annoyance that Ember wasn't listening.

Heaving a sigh, the purple dragon trailed after her as she led him in a merry circle around the gardens. She kept shooting glances towards a nearby building, and Spyro turned curiously to see what she was looking at. A red dragon, unmistakably Flame, was standing on the balcony, too far away for Spyro to read his expression. But the purple dragon didn't need to see his face to know that Flame wasn't pleased. Just what was Ember playing at, anyway?

At last the pink dragoness came to a stop, sitting down beneath a tree in clear view of Flame's balcony. Spyro wandered over to her, albeit warily, and sat down beside her. The pink dragoness shifted closer to him, giving him a very strange smile, and he was tempted to flee.

"So, Spyro," she purred, "do you forgive me for sneaking out after you? I only wanted to help, you know."

Spyro blinked, surprised, "I-I know…and I'm not angry with you…"

"You're so sweet," Ember smirked, and bumped the tip of her muzzle against his, much to his surprise and embarrassment.

Spyro's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and Ember giggled, before scampering away from him. For a while Spyro sat in shock, stunned by what had just happened, before remembering that he'd left Cynder alone. Not bothering to see where Ember had gone, Spyro dashed out of the gardens and headed back towards where he had left Cynder, hoping she'd still be there.

* * *

Flame had been sitting alone on his balcony, planning a way to get Spyro alone for a rematch, when he spotted a most unwelcome sight. Ember and Spyro were taking a walk in the gardens, just the two of them. That wasn't something that Flame particularly wanted to see, and he was tempted to glide down there and give Spyro a piece of his mind. But he decided against it, and merely watched in aggravation as Ember led the purple dragon around the gardens.

He was about to look away when Ember suddenly stopped and waited for Spyro to catch up to her. They sat for a moment beneath a tree and Flame's eyes widened when he watched his best friend nuzzle the purple dragon. Anger surfaced in his gut and he glared furiously at them, but did nothing. Then, quite suddenly, something odd happened.

A strange feeling, like molten lava rising within his gut, seemed to take over his body, and Flame suddenly found himself on his feet, his eyes glowing with anger. A vicious snarl tore itself from his throat and for a moment the whole world seemed to turn red, and he was struck by the urge to leap down from the balcony and kill Spyro there and then. Then, just as suddenly, the feeling passed and Flame stood blinking in confusion, unsure what had just happened.

After a few moments, Flame settled back down on the balcony and saw that Spyro had now left the gardens. That feeling was gone now, but Flame remembered it quite vividly. It was as though a monster had tried to claw its way out of his chest, overwhelming his senses with anger.

"What was that…?" Flame wondered aloud, raising a paw to his chest.

The necklet was cool against his paw and Flame shrugged, confused. Deciding that maybe he'd imagined it, the red dragon laid his head upon his paws and thought nothing more of it.

* * *

Somewhere far away, deep within the mountain's core, a grey dragon reopened his icy-blue eyes. He looked around his cavern, decorated with strange and eerie paintings, thinking over the information he had just discovered. Alta heaved a yawn and clambered to his feet, lumbering over to three large seed-pod shells that lay upon the floor, filled with coloured paste. The grey dragon dipped his paw into the first and painted a circle on the cavern floor.

"I see," Alta mumbled to himself, dipping his paw into the next colour, "his mind is weakest when he's angry."

The grey dragon said no more after that and continued, in silence, to paint.

**A/N: I am so sorry for the wait and the uninteresting chapter. I've been suffering from some nasty writer's block, but I think it's all good now. Thank you everyone for reviewing, you are my motivation. :) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	15. Confessions and Mind Control

**15. Confessions and Mind Control**

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Cynder asked, somewhat icily, when Spyro returned from his walk with Ember.

The purple dragon heaved a sigh, not picking up the icy tone in Cynder's voice, "She was hard to get away from. Sorry about that."

The black dragoness stared at him, her green eyes slightly suspicious as they glared accusingly at the bemused purple dragon. He met her gaze hesitantly, confused by the cold vibes she was emitting. Glancing around nervously, Spyro noticed that it was already well into the afternoon. An idea popped into his head, and he turned a smile on the irate black dragoness.

"Hey, Cynder," Spyro prompted. "Let's take a walk. In a few hours the sun will set, and Warfang always looks beautiful at sunset. Besides, there are still lots of places we haven't explored in the city yet. What do you say?"

Cynder hesitated at first, still angry at the purple dragon for going off with Ember, but caught off guard by his sudden proposal. Half of her wanted to maintain that grudge just for a little longer, but the thought of taking a sunset walk with Spyro was far too enticing.

"Well," Cynder smiled shyly at the purple dragon, "all right. But you have to keep me entertained until sunset, Spyro, or I might get bored and walk off on you! Okay?"

Startled by those unexpected words, Spyro stuttered to answer her, still not entirely understanding the grudge she was holding against him. As far as he was concerned, he hadn't done anything wrong. Hadn't it been Ember who dragged him away? He hadn't gone willingly, but then again, he hadn't put up a very good fight. Slightly ashamed, Spyro nervously agreed to Cynder's sly request.

"O-Okay, Cynder," he stuttered, cracking an uncertain smile, "I'll do my best."

Cynder's mischievous smile grew even wider and she sidled to Spyro's side, nudging him with her hips, "Okay, let's go then!"

Relieved, Spyro readily agreed and the two young dragons commenced their exploration of the city. The purple dragon, afraid that Cynder would become bored in the silence, kept up a constant string of conversation. He spoke about anything and everything, from the state of the city, to the times they had shared together during their travels. Cynder couldn't help but chuckle at his attempts to keep her entertained, but she had no intention of deserting him. Anything to keep him on his toes, she decided.

After a while, the two dragons found themselves straying into the damaged part of the city, and it was here they took to the skies. Spyro gazed down at the ruined buildings and cracked streets below him, and for a moment he fell silent. Neither he nor Cynder had dared to venture into and explore this part of the city, crumbled and destroyed as it was. This place was the only reminder of the war, other than their vivid memories, and just seeing it caused the both of them to fall into despondent and thoughtful silence.

Moles could be seen, like tiny ants from the air, scampering backwards and forwards between the crumbled buildings in their attempts to restore the city to what it once had been. A few dragons could be seen amongst the rubble, assisting the moles as best they could, carrying the stones that were too heavy for the moles to lift.

Spyro and Cynder circled above the ruins, watching, considering whether or not to lend a paw to the hardworking moles. Hovering lower towards the crumbled buildings, their attention was caught by the sound of a yelling voice that seemed oddly familiar. The purple dragon turned towards the sound and saw below him a large group of moles who had their hands full clearing rubble out of the way of a half-destroyed building.

"Keep it up, boys! Heave-ho!"

Spyro laughed as he located the source of the familiar voice, amused by the sight of his brother Sparx's attempt to command the moles. The yellow dragonfly had his arms folded as he hovered above the busy moles, yelling orders and encouragement to them. The purple dragon wasn't all that surprised. Sparx always had considered himself a leader, and it appeared he was now putting those skills to use.

"Is that Sparx?" Cynder asked, amused. "I've never seen him act like that."

"I have," replied Spyro, grinning as he gazed down at the dragonfly. "I remember a few years ago we saved a tribe on Tall Plains called the Atlawa. They treated us like gods afterwards, and Sparx wanted nothing more than to stay. He's got a big ego, and he's smarter than he acts. Believe me, Sparx makes a good leader."

Cynder hummed in agreement, slightly surprised to hear Spyro speak about the dragonfly with such respect. The immature dragonfly had never struck her as the sort to govern respect, but seeing him now, and hearing Spyro's words, seemed to change that.

"Should we help them?" Spyro asked.

But Cynder shook her head, smiling, "Let Sparx take care of it. He's doing a good job. Besides, you're not getting away from me that easily. You still owe me that walk!"

Spyro blushed, "R-Right!"

Leaving Sparx and the moles to their labours, the two young dragons soared away from the damaged area of the city and continued their exploration elsewhere. They passed Flame once, and waved to him as he lay sleepily on his balcony. He glared lazily at Spyro and replied with a half-hearted wave of his wing. Moving on, Spyro and Cynder spotted Ember and Chios strolling in the gardens. Not far away, Delos and Naxos were engaged in a playful wrestling match, in which neither seemed to have the advantage.

Slowly the sun sank towards the horizon, and brilliant orange streaks began to appear in the sky. The two young dragons soared over the courtyard, watching as below them the guardians gathered for a meeting. The purple dragon was tempted to hover down and join in the meeting, but he had promised Cynder a sunset walk and refrained from doing so, even when he saw Seriphos join the guardians. Whatever they were talking about, Spyro decided it had to wait. Cynder noticed his internal struggle, and was relieved when he pushed away the temptation to join the guardians.

The sun had now sunk to touch the horizon, and the resulting orange light appeared to turn the stone walls of the city into molten gold. Spyro grinned at Cynder and beckoned for her to follow. He led her up, far above the buildings, and zoned in on the roof of the Atrium. It stood higher than all of the buildings, except for the four lookout towers, and it was on its roof that Spyro and Cynder alighted.

The two young dragons stood with their backs to the glaring, setting sun and gazed instead upon the molten-gold city stretched out below them. Cynder's emerald eyes twinkled in appreciation at the sight.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Spyro asked, folding his orange wings against his body as he gazed out over the city.

"It is," Cynder nestled against the purple dragon, nuzzling her head beneath his chin, and was pleased when he didn't shy away. "Especially from up here."

Spyro unfurled his wings again, wrapping one around the black dragoness and curling his tail around hers, "I thought you'd like it."

The two dragons sat in silence for a while, each enjoying the other's company and the sight of the sunset city stretched out before them. Spyro let his mind wander, forgetting for the moment everything that had been bothering him, and filling his thoughts only with the black dragoness nestled beneath his wing. For the purple dragon, this was contentment.

"Spyro?" Cynder asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "Do you…"

She hesitated, unsure how to word the question she wanted to ask, and slightly afraid of the answer. Spyro gazed down at her curiously, waiting for her to speak. Cynder averted her eyes from his, tracing a circle with the tip of her claw nervously.

"Do you…_like_ Ember?" she mumbled, and instantly screwed her eyes shut as she waited tensely for his answer.

Spyro was surprised by the question, "Like her? I guess so. She's a nice dragoness, even if she's a friend of that arrogant Flame. Why do you ask?"

Cynder's spirits fell. Spyro really hadn't understood the question, and the black dragoness couldn't bring herself to reword it, afraid of the answer. But she tried anyway, stuttering to explain.

"No, I mean…" she hesitated again, and gazed at his befuddled expression. Heaving a sigh, Cynder shook her head and mumbled, "Never mind."

Spyro gazed at her, bemused, and eventually shrugged, "Okay then…"

Until the end of the sunset, both young dragons sat in awkward silence, although Spyro couldn't figure out what exactly he'd done wrong. Once the sun had sunk below the horizon and the city had been plunged into the darkness of night, the purple dragon flew with the dragoness back to her room. He offered her an awkward goodnight and left, unsure if she was still annoyed with him or not.

Cynder sat for a while on her balcony, watching the purple dragon fly away from her room as the moonlight illuminated his form. A sigh escaped her lips and she curled up like a cat, gazing upwards at the night sky.

'_I need to know, Spyro. Do you have feelings for Ember? I need to know, if it came to a decision, who would you choose?_'

* * *

"Plan of action, Master Terrador?"

The earth guardian considered his former student, Seriphos, as he mulled over his answer. The other three guardians stood beside him, waiting just as eagerly to hear Terrador's decision. It was already sunset, a whole day since Spyro had returned without the missing search party, and the guardians had yet to take action. With a group of dragons missing in what was possibly dangerous territory, there was no longer any time for procrastination.

"Send out two dragons to scout the area," Terrador said at last. "They are to gather any information they can about the area and the grublins that reside there. They are not to reveal themselves to the enemy and, even if they find the missing search party, are not to take action. I want information and nothing more. When we have that, then we can take action. Seriphos, Cyril, I'll leave you to find two suitable scout dragons and relay those orders to them. Understood?"

"What of Spyro and Cynder?" Seriphos inquired.

"I want them to focus on their training," Terrador replied as firmly as if he were speaking to the young dragons themselves. "Until we have clear information about the grublin forces and the missing search party, I don't want those young dragons to worry about assisting us."

"Are you sure?" Thasos was hesitant to agree with the earth guardian. "Spyro didn't take it so well last time we attempted to exclude him from our plans."

Terrador sighed gruffly, "I know, but we cannot continue to rely on the young purple dragon. I understand that Spyro wishes to help, but there's little he can do until we truly understand the situation. We will wait until then before we ask for his assistance."

"Understood, master," Seriphos bowed respectfully. "We'll not ask for Spyro's assistance."

With that said, the green dragon and the ice guardian left to find two suitable candidates to act as Terrador's scout dragons. The earth guardian stood in a brief moment of silence with Volteer and Thasos, until the fire guardian broke the heavy silence.

"What are your thoughts, Terrador?" Thasos asked. "Do you think the grublins had anything to do with the disappearance of the search party?"

"I can only hope otherwise," Terrador sighed, bowing his head away from the setting sun. "I can only hope that the search party is safe, and that the grublins Spyro ran afoul of were merely the last feeble remnants of Malefor's army. If the world is still infested with those hostile creatures, what chance does dragonkind have to survive? Does Malefor's army still continue to exist without his leadership, or were these grublins the very last resistance? Whatever the case, we can only hope that there is not some driving force behind them."

"Driving force, Terrador?" Thasos raised a scaly eyebrow. "You believe there could be something, or someone, controlling the grublins?"

Terrador didn't answer for a while, his gaze fixed on the sky, the sunset's orange light causing his green scales to glow like fire. Volteer and Thasos exchanged nervous glances, but neither said a word.

"I hope not, Thasos," the earth guardian said at length, though there was little confidence in his voice. "I hope not."

* * *

The mid-morning sun crept stealthily through the arched windows as Flame wandered the corridors with Ember, trailing behind her as he pondered that ever-present problem of the purple dragon. There wasn't a time that Flame's head wasn't filled with thoughts of revenge against him, not since Alta had presented him with the means to do so. But, though the necklet, his key to victory, hung invisible around his neck, Flame had yet to put it to the test. Not yet. He had to get Spyro alone first.

The object of Flame's thoughts, and perhaps Ember's too, appeared quite suddenly ahead of them as they turned a corner. The purple dragon was just turning into an adjacent corridor, heading no doubt towards Cynder's room, when Ember called him back. Spyro halted, startled at the sound of his name, and turned his head towards the two dragons that approached him.

"Morning, Spyro," Ember called cheerily, much to Flame's chagrin. "In a hurry?"

Instantly the purple dragon appeared flustered, "No! I was, I was just…uh…"

Flame rolled his eyes. There was little doubt that the purple dragon was in a hurry to see that black dragoness, Cynder. He always was. Why he attempted to deny that fact was something that the red dragon would never understand. Not that he cared.

"No?" Ember asked, sneakily seizing the opportunity. "Then you've got time to have a chat with us!"

"Uh," Spyro hesitated, and regretted not telling the truth. There was no shaking the pink dragoness off now.

"I know!" Ember beamed, as though a thought had just struck her. "We'll all walk down to the main hall together! Okay, Spyro?"

The purple dragon wished he had the guts to refuse her, "Ac-Actually, I…"

Much to his surprise, it was Flame who came to his rescue. Giving the purple dragon a sardonic glare, the red dragon interrupted before Ember could say anything more.

"Give the idiot a break, Ember," Flame muttered, snorting smoke. "He's got other things to do, can't you tell?"

The pink dragoness appeared surprised and turned her blue eyes back to Spyro, "Do you?"

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, Spyro nodded, "Yeah, I do."

"Oh," Ember hesitated, slightly disappointed, before her dazzling smile returned. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Well, see you later then, Spyro!"

And before either of the two dragons could say anything, Ember nuzzled her head beneath Spyro's chin and softly licked his cheek, leaving him stunned. Smiling alluringly, Ember winked at the purple dragon and turned on her heel, strutting away down the corridor. Both Flame and Spyro sat in stunned silence, until the red dragon narrowed his eyes and presented the purple dragon with a snarl of disgust. Confused, Spyro watched as Flame stalked after Ember, disappearing around the corner and leaving him alone once more.

Spyro didn't move for a while, unsure what had just happened, and it was there that Sparx found him moments later. The dragonfly hovered over to his surrogate brother, and waved a glowing yellow hand in front of his glazed-over eyes. Spyro blinked in an attempt to shift himself out of his reverie.

"Hey, Spyro," Sparx called, tapping him on the nose. "Everything okay?"

"Hmm," Spyro murmured and said nothing else, staring down the corridor that Flame and Ember had just disappeared into.

"Something wrong?" Sparx tugged on the dragon's horn in an attempt to get Spyro to look at him.

When Spyro did look at the dragonfly, Sparx saw that his eyes were filled with deep thought, "Ember's been acting strange. I don't get it. She wasn't like this before, and I'm sure she doesn't like me like _that_."

"Like what?" Sparx scratched his head, bemused.

Spyro ignored him and mused quietly, "I wonder what she's up to."

"Whatever," Sparx waved his hand nonchalantly and beckoned for the purple dragon to follow. "Come on, Cynder's probably waiting for you, right?"

"Oh!" Spyro gasped and turned swiftly. "You're right! Thanks, Sparx!"

"Anytime," the yellow dragonfly replied, hovering alongside the purple dragon as he cantered along the corridors towards the black dragoness's room.

When Spyro fetched Cynder from her room, he wisely refrained from telling her of his encounter with Ember and Flame. Instead, he bade her good morning and asked if she wanted to walk with him down to the main hall. To his relief, she accepted, and he was glad she no longer appeared to be keeping that grudge against him. So, with Cynder on one side and Sparx on the other, Spyro headed down to the main hall.

On the days that they didn't have training, the young dragons found that there was little within the city to entertain them. It was an empty city, half destroyed during the war and lacking in anything particularly interesting for four adolescent dragons. Unsure what else to do, Cynder and Spyro took to wandering the streets, helping moles where they could and stopping to chat to the rare few dragons they passed.

It didn't take long for Spyro's mind to return to the one thing that was bothering him: the missing search party. Despite Cynder pleadings that he'd done enough to help, Spyro spent more than an hour searching the city for Terrador and the guardians.

They found Seriphos near the battlements, evidently having just been patrolling the walls. At the sight of Spyro and Cynder his expression instantly become guarded, arousing suspicion from the two young dragons, Spyro especially.

"Hey, Seriphos," Spyro called, wandering over to the green dragon. "You haven't seen Terrador, have you?"

But Seriphos shook his head, "Afraid not, Spyro."

He expected the purple dragon to thank him and leave, but Spyro appeared to have other plans. Cynder, on the other hand, was tapping her claws impatiently on the pavement.

"Do you know what's going on?" Spyro asked after a moment of silence. "I mean, regarding the search party? Has Terrador decided on anything?"

Seriphos hesitated noticeably, and shot a nervous look behind him, "I…no. I don't know…"

"Seriphos, please don't keep things from me," Spyro begged, recognising the look in the green dragon's eyes. "I need to know what's going on."

Seriphos sighed and dipped his head down, closer to Spyro's level. The purple dragon leaned in close, waiting for him to speak.

"Listen, Spyro, Terrador's already told me not to ask you for assistance…"

"But I didn't say you had to keep things from him," said the earth guardian, causing them both to jump as he strode swiftly towards them.

"Terrador!" Spyro yelped, as Seriphos sprang to attention with a bark of "Master Terrador!"

"Relax, you two," Terrador chuckled, "no need to be so on edge. Was there something you wanted to ask, Spyro?"

Spyro instantly seized the opportunity, "Terrador, I need to know what is going on! What is your plan? How are we going to find the search party, and what are we going to do about the grublins? Tell me how I can help!"

"Now, now, Spyro," the earth guardian soothed, plodding over to him and extending a wide brown wing over the smaller dragon. "Don't get so worked up. For the moment you needn't do anything. We are merely gathering information, and your assistance is not required yet."

"Gathering information?"

"Seriphos just sent out two dragons to scout out the area where you encountered the grublins," Terrador explained, after a nod of confirmation from Seriphos. "They are staying hidden and collecting information. For the moment, no action is to be taken until we fully understand the situation. Understand, Spyro?"

"I-I guess," Spyro mumbled hesitantly. "But…I can still help, can't I?"

Terrador shook his large head slowly, "Not yet, young dragon, not yet. Let us handle this part. When we require your assistance, Spyro, I promise you we will ask for it. But for now, I want you to leave this to us and concentrate on your training."

"But, Terrador…"

"Please, Spyro," the earth guardian stared sternly down at the young dragon, "let us deal with this. We are not completely useless."

Spyro bowed his head, almost shamefully, "I know you're not. I just want to help. But, I understand. Until you need my help, I'll leave this to you."

"Thank you, Spyro," Terrador sighed, relieved, releasing the purple dragon from beneath his wing. "Now, go enjoy your day off. Your training continues tomorrow, and I'm planning to mix things up a bit. Off you go now."

Before Spyro could ask him what he meant by that, Terrador had already taken to the air with Seriphos, leaving him alone with Cynder. He turned quizzically to her, but she merely shrugged in response, clearly not understanding either. So, wondering just what Terrador had in store for them the next day, Cynder and Spyro spent the rest of the day assisting the moles to rebuild the crumbled part of the North Wall. It might have even been enjoyable, if Sparx hadn't been constantly yelling orders at them.

* * *

They woke the next morning to a sky choked with pale grey clouds, and a windless chill that threatened the arrival of rain. Spyro would have gladly remained in his room for the majority of the morning, stretched out over three yellow cushions as he gazed dolefully at the melancholy sky. But it was training day, and Terrador expected them at the Western courtyard no later than midday. Even so, it was already well into the morning before Spyro hauled himself to his feet and lumbered down to the main hall.

Though the purple dragon was in a hurry, he still managed to find himself distracted by Naxos and Delos, who insisted he join them for breakfast and wouldn't take no for an answer. Caught up in conversation with the two older dragons, Spyro didn't realise just how close it was to midday until Sparx happened to pass by.

"Hey, Spyro buddy," the yellow dragonfly greeted, waving, "shouldn't you be at training by now?"

The purple dragon leapt to his feet in a panic, sending the cushion he'd been resting on bouncing across the floor, "Oh crap, I forgot! Sorry, Naxos, Delos, I gotta go!"

Spyro received a few curious looks from the few dragons that were still in the hall as he dashed down the length of the room and crashed through the doors into the street. Skidding on the cobblestones, Spyro turned a sharp corner and dashed towards the courtyard, hoping he wasn't too late. To his dismay, however, Terrador was already waiting for him along with his other three training companions. Flame shot the purple dragon a filthy look, and the two dragonesses giggled at his flustered expression as he swiftly apologized to the earth guardian.

"Sorry, Terrador!" Spyro gasped, panting from his swift dash from the hall. "I lost track of time!"

The earth guardian shook his head, "And you didn't hear the midday bell?"

"Uh…" Spyro paused, thinking, and remembered he had in fact heard it and had chosen to ignore it. Sheepish, he shrugged and grinned at Terrador.

The large green dragon rolled his eyes, "Well, now that you've finally decided to arrive, Spyro, we can begin."

"Finally," Flame hissed softly, and glared at Ember as she hushed him.

"Today things are going to be a little different," Terrador looked down at his four pupils, an odd glint in his emerald eyes. "Today you are going to switch partners."

For a split second Flame looked excited, believing he'd finally be able to fight Spyro. But the earth guardian dashed his hopes with his next words.

"Spyro, you will be training with Ember. And Flame, Cynder will be your partner for this lesson. Understood?"

Flame snorted in annoyance, but said nothing. He should have known Terrador wouldn't give in that easily. Spyro and Ember looked equally stunned, while Cynder seemed only half-interested in the turn of events. The earth guardian waited for them to either agree or argue, but none of the young dragons said a word for a few silent moments.

"Well?" Terrador prompted, raising a scaly eyebrow. "Is that understood?"

"Y-Yes, Terrador," Spyro stuttered quickly, coming out of his reverie, "I'll fight Ember."

"Good," the earth guardian looked expectantly at the other three, and they all nodded in agreement. "We'll begin, then. Spyro, Ember, you first. Remember, the point of this exercise is to see how well you'd fair against a real enemy. Now we'll see how well you can fight against an opponent you're not used to fighting. Clear the ring."

Terrador backed out of the centre ring of the courtyard, beckoning for Flame and Cynder to follow him, leaving Spyro and Ember facing each other in the centre. The purple dragon hesitated and looked towards the others. His eyes met Flame's, and he knew immediately what the red dragon's glare was saying.

'_Hurt her, and you answer to me_.'

The purple dragon returned the glare, but gave the slightest of nods in understanding and turned his gaze back to his opponent. Ember was almost quaking in her scales and she gave Spyro a shaky smile when he looked at her.

"D-Don't go easy on me," she whispered, trembling, though her eyes begged him otherwise.

Spyro replied with a reassuring smile, and lowered his body into a crouch as he awaited Terrador's signal. A moment of silence passed as the two young dragons faced each other tensely, and then the earth guardian's voice cut through the air.

"Begin!"

It was Spyro who made the first move, but that was only to be expected, considering his timid opponent. Ember squealed and took to the air instantly like a startled bird as Spyro pounced at her. He clipped the underside of her tail as she leapt over him, and managed through some miraculous feet to fasten his claws around the base of her tailblade. The pink dragon emitted a yelp of surprise as she was pulled backwards and out of the air by a swift tug on the end of her tail. She landed heavily on her side and proceeded to scramble upright before Spyro could make another move.

"Focus, Ember!" Terrador roared. "Remember your training!"

But Ember was far too startled by the prospect of fighting the purple dragon to remember what Terrador had taught her thus far. It was as though the instant she faced an opponent she wasn't used to, all of the skills she had learnt previously had been wiped from her memory. A gasp of pain escaped her lips as Spyro's horns connected with her hide, knocking her back onto her side. Panicked, Ember scrambled to get back up, fearing another swift attack from her opponent.

But Spyro was now standing in front of her, unmoving, as though waiting for her to make the next move. There was a look of concern in his eyes, worried that she hadn't even tried to counterattack. Ember instantly felt ashamed and backed away from the purple dragon, bowing her head.

"I…I'm sorry," she mumbled, speaking both to Spyro and Terrador, "I'm…not ready for this."

Spyro's eyes widened in surprise, "Ember?"

She didn't dare meet his eyes, "I'm not ready to fight the purple dragon! I don't have enough experience! I-I can't fight you, Spyro…"

A silence fell in which all four dragons gazed at the cowering pink dragon. She raised her head, revealing an expression of shame as she dared to face the earth guardian.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wishing she could just sink into the ground and disappear.

"Very well, Ember," Terrador said, "I can see there is much you still have to learn. You are excused from this match."

Giving Spyro a shamed and apologetic glance, Ember slunk out of the ring and flopped down beside Flame. Terrador glanced over at her.

"Do not be so down, Ember," he called. "The point of this exercise was to test you, to see how well you would fair against an unfamiliar opponent. It was to expose faults, so that I could see what you have learnt and what you still need to learn. Do not be ashamed, Ember. Many stronger dragons have backed down in the face of the purple dragon, and you still have so very much to learn before you have the confidence to defend yourself."

Ember nodded dolefully, hardly encouraged by Terrador's words. Flame tapped his claws against the cobblestones and stood up.

"Well, is it my turn now?" the red dragon asked impatiently, glaring at the earth guardian.

Terrador considered him with a stern eye and nodded slowly. Smirking, Flame stalked into the ring as Spyro strode out. They exchanged glares as they passed, an unspoken challenge, their scales almost touching. Cynder stepped confidently into the ring, winking at the purple dragon as he sat down next to Ember. The red dragon positioned himself opposite the black dragoness, crouching low to the ground in preparation.

"I hope you're ready, Blacky," Flame smirked, swishing his tail.

"Oh I am, hothead," she replied, digging her claws into the cobblestones, a glint in her emerald eyes. "You're the one who's not ready."

Flame snorted, but Cynder still had something she wanted to say. She stared coldly, challengingly, at her opponent and hissed softly so that only he could hear.

"I'll show you what happens when you mess with my Spyro."

Flame raised an eyebrow and hissed back, equally as quiet, "Dream on, princess. I'll defeat you just as easily as I could defeat _him_."

"Last I checked, he defeated _you_," Cynder snapped back cockily.

Flame didn't reply to that and merely bared his teeth in an angry snarl, lowering his head even closer to the ground. Cynder's tail swished, and she tensed her shoulders and hindquarters. Tensely, they waited for the signal.

"Begin!"

At the sound of Terrador's roar, both dragons simultaneously leapt into the sky. It appeared that this was to be a strictly airborne battle. Cynder propelled her body forwards with a strong flap of her crimson wings, barrelling into the red dragon claws first. Flame was knocked back a few inches, wincing as Cynder's claws pierced the scales of his underbelly, and dug his own claws into her shoulders. With a strength born of fury, Flame tore the black dragoness away from his chest and tossed her towards the ground.

But Cynder was a master of flight, and twisted elegantly in the air before the ground could reach her. She shot back up, startling her opponent, her forehead connecting heavily with the underside of his jaw. On the ground, Spyro and Ember winced at the sight of the impact as Flame was tossed backwards and began plummeting downwards. He recovered inches from the ground, and somehow managed to right himself before he crashed, though his tail scraped the cobblestones painfully.

Cynder shot down towards the red dragon like a bullet, her wings streamlined against her sides as she prepared to collide with her opponent and crush him to the ground. But Flame had other ideas. Opening his mouth, the red dragon fired off a brilliant ball of fire that burned through the air towards the black dragoness. She was forced to roll sideways to avoid it, and spread her wings again to regain her balance, her kamikaze attack foiled.

Flame soared upwards to meet her, swinging his tail around to slap her across the face. She dodged just in time, and his tailblade connected instead with her crimson chest, barely scratching her. Anger filled her emerald eyes as she glowered at him.

"No one said we couldn't use our elements," Flame gloated, fire flickering between his teeth.

"Two can play at that game," Cynder retorted and, before Flame could respond, she sent him spiralling to the ground with a concentrated gust of wind.

The red dragon yelled in pain as he crashed into the ground, his body bouncing and skidding across the cobblestones. Spyro couldn't suppress a wince at the sight. Flame didn't get up for a moment, and Cynder hovered down to land behind him. She stalked towards his stunned form, tensing her claws for the final blow.

Flame groaned as his ribs ached from the collision with the hard ground. His whole body ached and, though he knew Cynder was approaching him, he felt as though his body wouldn't obey his commands. His injuries protested as he attempted to get up, and Flame realised with a feeling of horror that he'd lost this duel.

_Fight._

The red dragon's golden eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. It sounded oddly familiar, but Flame couldn't remember where he'd heard it before. For a moment he thought he'd imagined it, but then the voice spoke again.

_You expect to defeat the purple dragon when you can't even defeat this weak dragoness? Fight, you idiot. Get up and fight._

At that moment Flame remembered the necklet nestled comfortably around his neck. Cynder's claws clacked against the cobblestones as she strode closer, and Flame's anger rose to breaking point. That same, strange feeling overtook his mind, and the whole world flashed red before his eyes. With a greater speed than he'd ever had before, Flame leapt to his feet and spun around. His tail whipped out violently, catching Cynder across the face as she approached him.

The black dragoness yelped in surprise as she was knocked onto her side, and raised her head to see Flame charge at her. His horns caught her in the side and tossed her up like a limp, broken doll. Cynder gasped as she landed heavily on the ground, the wind completely forced out of her. Vaguely she heard Spyro yell something, and then she was tossed into the air once more. Coughing, Cynder managed to right herself and landed on her feet this time, staggering. Flame stood before her, a strange look in his eyes and a dangerous snarl on his face.

He charged again and Cynder barely dodged, taking this chance to fasten her teeth around his tail. She swung hard, intending to pull him off balance, but his tail jerked in her grip and pulled her onto her side instead. She looked up in horror as the red dragon leapt at her, teeth and claws bared.

There was something wrong. It was as though he was fighting to kill. The black dragoness managed to roll out of the way, and Flame landed on the cobblestones instead. In desperation, Cynder swung her tail hard and hit him upside the head, knocking him down.

"Enough!" Terrador roared, as Flame struggled to get up. "That's enough!"

Cynder backed away from her opponent, breathing heavily, and everyone waited tensely for the red dragon to get up. He sat up slowly, blinking his gold eyes with a bemused expression on his face. His body ached, and he could barely remember what had happened after Cynder had blasted him out of the air. Shaking his head to clear it, Flame gazed around at the four dragons that were staring at him.

"Impressive comeback, Flame," Terrador praised, though there was a wary look in his eyes. "But try not to be so violent. That is entirely the reason why we cannot permit you to fight Spyro. Until you cool your head and remember that this is only _training_, I cannot allow you to fight him. Understood?"

"R-Right," Flame muttered, still not entirely sure what had happened. He remembered lying on the cobblestones, waiting for Cynder to deal the final blow, and then something strange had happened. It was as though something else had taken over his body and forced him to continue the fight. But that was ridiculous, Flame thought, how could someone else be controlling his body? Instead, Flame decided he'd just lost control of his anger, nothing more.

"Are you hurt, Cynder?" Spyro asked, hurrying to her side.

The black dragoness shook her head slowly, "Just a few bruises and scratches. He's a better fighter than I expected."

The purple dragon grinned, "You almost beat him. But I guess he couldn't stand the thought of being defeated by a dragoness."

"Guess not," Cynder purred, nuzzling her cheek against Spyro's.

Terrador looked over his four pupils, "Cynder, well done. You fought with as much skill as I would have expected from someone with as much experience as you. I see you and Flame are exhausted, so we'll leave it at that for today. Next lesson we'll be practicing on the training dummies. I don't want any more fighting until Flame cools down and until Ember gains more confidence. Understood, young ones?"

"Yes, master Terrador," they chimed together, with little enthusiasm.

"Good," Terrador gave Flame one last stern glance. "Now, off you go. Enjoy the rest of your day, and don't get into any fights."

With that said, the earth guardian nodded respectfully to his students and strode away. The four young dragons stood in silence for a while, unsure what to do or say.

"I'm just going to head to the infirmary," Cynder whispered to Spyro, "I'm a little sore. Do you think you could meet me in the gardens at sunset?"

The purple dragon blushed, "Um…sure. I'd…I'd love to. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you to the infirmary?"

"I'll be fine, Spyro," the black dragoness winked at him and took to the air, soaring away from the courtyard.

Flame pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the injuries he had sustained. He briefly considered challenging Spyro now, but pushed that thought away. He was in no shape to fight now. So instead he turned away from the other two and spread his wings.

"I'm going back to my room," he said bluntly. "Don't bother me."

Before the red dragon could leave, however, Ember swiftly made her move.

"You sure you don't want to go for a walk with me?" she called.

"I don't," he growled, not even bothering to turn to face her.

"Fine," Ember sniffed, and turned instead to Spyro. "Spyro, will you walk with me? I want to talk to you…"

Flame snorted angrily and leapt into the sky, winging away from the courtyard before he even heard Spyro's answer. The purple dragon hesitated and looked at the cloud-choked sky, which threatened to spill rain over the city. It was at least two hours before sunset, enough time to walk with Ember before meeting Cynder. He shrugged and agreed, wondering what it was that Ember wanted to talk about. The pink dragoness beamed at him.

"Thanks," she smiled, and turned around, "we'll go to the wall. I haven't explored the battlements yet."

So, a little grudgingly, Spyro followed Ember towards the western wall, which was closest. They landed upon the battlements and Ember stood gazing out at the distant horizon for a few moments, before turning to the purple dragon.

"Listen, Spyro," she sighed, "I want to apologize for before…for not being a good opponent."

Spyro looked surprised, "It's fine, Ember, it doesn't matter. Really. I should have gone a little easier on you, anyway. I mean, you don't have nearly as much experience as me, so…"

The pink dragoness cut him off, "It's not just that, Spyro! It's not just that you're the purple dragon and you're stronger than me. Spyro, I can't fight you because…you're _you_…"

He raised an eyebrow, confused, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ember said, shuffling her paws on the stone beneath her feet, "that you are kind, and helpful, and…and I don't _want_ to fight you!"

Startled, Spyro sat back on his haunches and stared at her. The pink dragoness hesitated, and turned her eyes bashfully away from him.

"You're a really nice dragon, Spyro. You…are a really good friend. And it's just hard to believe that the purple dragon who destroyed Malefor and saved the world…was you. I just can't believe that you could actually…kill someone. It just doesn't seem like you!"

Spyro was silent for a while, his own thoughts and memories ticking over in his mind. Ember stood awkwardly in front of him, anxiously waiting to see how he would respond. A sigh escaped his lips.

"Ember, I," he looked her seriously in the eyes, "I didn't kill Malefor. I fought him, yes, and I probably could have killed him, but…I didn't. It was the spirits of our ancestors that dragged Malefor down to his eternal prison. You probably don't understand, though…"

Ember smiled timidly and shook her head, "No, I don't understand. But, if you say you didn't kill him, then I believe you. I'd prefer to think that a nice dragon like you would never kill anyone."

Spyro returned her grin with his own strained smile, his thoughts returning to a memory of more than three years ago. No, he hadn't killed Malefor, but that didn't mean he'd never killed anyone before. He still remembered it; the confrontation at the Well of Souls. Something had taken him over on that night, filled his heart and soul with nothing but darkness. He'd killed his enemy without remorse, shattered that foul ape Gaul into nothing but dust. There was nothing that could make him forget that. But Ember didn't need to know.

"Spyro, you okay?"

The purple dragon blinked, realising he'd been drifting off, his face set in an expression of remorse as he returned to those chilling memories. Ember gazed upon him with concern, but he smiled reassuringly at her and nodded. The pink dragoness didn't need to know about the darker half of Spyro's soul. No one did. Only Cynder and Sparx knew, and they'd never told anyone.

Ember smiled as she turned towards the distant horizon, watching as the sun, almost hidden behind the growing rain clouds, sank lower towards it. It would be sunset in not much more than an hour. Spyro sat down at Ember's side, and gazed out at the outside world, his thoughts turning to the missing search party.

"I wonder if we'll ever find them," he mumbled, not realising he had spoken aloud.

"Who?" Ember asked, confused.

"The missing search party," Spyro explained quickly, blushing as he realised he had voiced his thoughts aloud.

"Oh," was all Ember replied, and she turned her eyes back to the horizon.

The two dragons were silent for quite a while as sunset drew ever nearer. Ember stood up suddenly, gazing towards the northern end of the city, where a red dragon could be seen soaring over the broken buildings.

"That's Flame," she said, surprised. "Wonder what he's doing?"

"Who knows?" Spyro yawned, and stood up himself.

The pink dragoness hesitated before scooting closer to him. Spyro looked surprised as she pressed herself to his side.

"You're a really good friend, you know that, Spyro?" she said, and nuzzled his cheek with her muzzle.

The purple dragon put up with it for a moment, until he stepped away from her and stared her down sternly. This was the third time she had done something like this, and Spyro had had enough. Ember shrank back, confused by the look.

"Ember," Spyro shook his head, "stop this. You've never acted like this before, so why now? I know you don't like me like that…do you?"

Blushing, the pink dragoness turned her face away from the purple dragon and shuffled her claws awkwardly. Spyro stared at her, waiting for a response.

"Spyro…I…" Ember heaved a sigh and raised her blue eyes to look at him. "Alright…you're right. I don't like you like that and…I shouldn't be acting like this."

"Then why _are_ you?" Spyro asked desperately, now thoroughly confused.

Hesitantly, Ember looked around timidly as though afraid that someone was listening. She edged closer to Spyro and whispered.

"There's something I need to tell you…in private, if we could?"

The purple dragon hesitated, and gazed down at Ember's pleading face. But he couldn't refuse that look, and heaved a reluctant sigh before nodding his consent.

"Alright," he agreed, "come to my room. We won't be interrupted there. And you have to promise to tell me everything. This can't keep going on."

"Of course," Ember nodded quickly, spreading her wings. "Let's go."

The two dragons leapt off the battlements and soared towards Spyro's room. There was only one problem: the purple dragon had completely forgotten that he was supposed to meet Cynder in the gardens. And the sun was just beginning to set.

* * *

The instant Cynder knocked Flame to the ground with a swipe of her tail, Alta lost control of the red dragon. Maybe it was the blow to the head, but something forced the grey dragon out of Flame's mind. Alta opened his eyes and shook his head roughly as his mind returned to his own body. That was something he'd have to work on, he realised. Once Flame's mind was weakened, Alta would no longer need to exert his own mind to gain complete control over the red dragon. The necklet would take care of that.

The grey dragon yawned and stretched like a cat, thinking. He'd successfully weakened Flame's mind enough to gain control over his body, and was pleased to find that he had been able to see through Flame's eyes. That black dragoness he had been fighting…could it be her? The Terror of the Skies, the great beast Cynder? There was a distinct possibility, thought Alta.

With just a little more probing, Alta was sure he'd be able to control Flame completely. And then, well, then he'd make the red dragon do what he wanted and no one would know who was behind it. Soon he'd kill that meddling purple dragon, and he wouldn't even need to get his own claws dirty. But, for now, there were a few other things that he needed to attend to. Closing his eyes, Alta once more invaded the mind of that unfortunate red dragon.

Flame had just taken flight towards his room, when that same odd feeling washed over him and his wings faltered. He caught himself before he fell and shook his head to clear it, confused by the fuzziness inside his mind. He felt sleepy quite suddenly, and a prickling feeling swept over his scalp, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Once more the world flashed red before his eyes, and then Flame knew no more.

Alta gazed around at the city through Flame's eyes, although it felt a little like looking through a foggy window. The buildings weren't in clear focus, and his vision appeared fuzzy at the edges, but that wasn't much of a problem. The red dragon hovered for a moment, allowing Alta to take in his surroundings. After a moment he saw what he was looking for, and guided Flame towards the northern area of the city.

The red dragon soared over the buildings, heading towards the damaged area of the city. Alta gazed down at the ruins of the once majestic city, only partly interested. His interested was sparked more by the northern wall, and it was there that he led Flame now. Soaring down closer to the ruins, Alta gazed down at the wall in triumph. A large portion of the wall had been demolished by Malefor's forces and had yet to be repaired. The moles were working frantically to repair the once impenetrable wall, but it would be a long time before they restored it to its original glory.

'_Perfect_,' thought Alta, gazing at the damaged wall through Flame's eyes, '_that looks like my ticket into this city. Those foolish moles will never restore the wall in time. That hole is a doorway straight into their so-called impenetrable city._'

Pleased at his discovery, Alta had just turned Flame around to lead him back to his room, when he heard someone yell the red dragon's name. He turned Flame's head to see two older dragons were soaring towards him, one yellow, one red.

"Hey, Flame!" roared the yellow dragon. "What's up?"

But Alta wasn't about to make conversation with two dragons who thought he was Flame, so he quickly turned his host around and soared away. The two older dragons stared after him in confusion, but Alta didn't care as long as they didn't follow him. The two dragons hovered in the air, staring after the dragon they believed to be Flame, confused.

"What's with him?" Naxos wondered, staring after him.

"Who knows?" Delos snorted and waved a paw. "What does it matter? He's always been a jerk. Come on."

"Right…" Naxos mumbled, and followed Delos down to help the moles, forgetting about Flame and his odd actions.

Flame opened his eyes slowly to find that he was lying on his balcony, and lay for a while as he tried to remember when he had got here. He remembered leaving the courtyard after training, and that was about it. Now the sun was beginning to set, and Flame had no idea where the time had gone. He didn't even remember returning to his room.

"Must have fallen asleep," the red dragon mumbled and yawned widely.

The necklet scraped against his scales as he moved his neck, and he was reminded that it was there. Reaching a paw up to touch it, Flame regretted not using its powers in his match with Cynder. He hadn't thought of it at the time, although he had used his element once. Had his fire breath been any stronger than before? Flame wasn't sure, but he knew its real test would come when he faced off against Spyro.

But how soon would that be? All that he needed to do was get Spyro alone and convince him to agree to a rematch. Flame swished his tail backwards and forwards, planning in his head. Their next training session would be the day after tomorrow, and they'd only be practicing with dummies. After that, once Terrador had left…it would be the perfect time to challenge Spyro. A grim smile found its way onto Flame's face as he gazed out at the cloud-choked sky. It would rain soon.

"Two days, Spyro," he growled, tapping his claw against the invisible necklet, "and then you'll get what's coming to you."

Far beyond the horizon, hidden within the maze of caverns and tunnels beneath the mountain range, Alta laughed.

**A/N: Oh my, that was a long wait between chapters wasn't it? Do forgive me. This chapter didn't want to be written and I didn't want to write it. But I did, and here it is. Here's hoping the next chapter will be easier and more interesting to write... Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! You make my day. :)**


	16. Broken

**16. Broken**

Spyro took one look back at the sky and the approaching onslaught of rain before following Ember into the warmth of his room. The pink dragoness appeared unusually edgy and kept shooting glances behind her, as though to ensure that no one was watching or listening. But she had no need to worry. There was no one in the room but her, Spyro, and the lonely, dusty books on the mostly bare bookshelf against the wall. Even so, only when Spyro shut the door did Ember relax.

Settling himself on one of his large, yellow cushions and beckoning for his guest to do the same, Spyro waited quizzically for Ember to begin. The pink dragoness remained standing, however, her paws shuffling against the floor anxiously as she paced subconsciously to and fro.

"What is it that you wanted to tell me, Ember?" Spyro asked after a tense moment of silence.

For a moment Ember didn't reply, but she did cease her anxious pacing. Taking a deep breath, the pink dragoness turned her azure eyes on the waiting purple dragon. Spyro could just tell that this secret was something she wasn't willing to tell anyone, whatever it was.

"I-I've never told anyone this before," she stuttered, and looked anxiously towards the balcony, making sure no one was there.

"Just tell me, who or what does it concern?" Spyro prompted, hoping that might help her.

"It's…" Ember hesitated for another second, and dropped her voice to an almost whisper. "It's about Flame."

The purple dragon was only half-surprised. It was almost predictable that Ember's troubles would all stem back to the hot-headed red dragon, her childhood friend. But as for what Flame had to do with Ember's mysterious actions, Spyro had no clue. He looked to the pink dragoness for an explanation, waiting patiently as she struggled with an inner turmoil he didn't understand.

"What about him?" Spyro asked softly, after watching Ember's expression twist and turn from embarrassment to anguish and back again.

"He…" Ember's voice faltered and hitched, almost as though she was on the verge of tears. She turned swiftly to Spyro, her eyes blazing with what could only be desperation and hurt, startling the purple dragon. "He never notices me!"

Stunned by the words Ember had shrieked, Spyro could only stare at her with a bemused expression on his uncomprehending face. Ember's lips quivered, her eyes becoming glossy with angry tears of hurt.

"W-What do you mean?" Spyro stammered quickly, desperately trying to keep the dragoness from crying. "He's always hanging around you! You're best friends, right? How could you think he doesn't notice you when you're with him almost every d—?"

"No!" Ember cut Spyro off with an angry screech. "You don't understand! I know I'm always with him, but he just doesn't notice that I…that I…"

She faltered and stepped back, bowing her head to the ground, and leaving Spyro even more bemused than before.

"That you what?" Spyro asked, blinking owlishly.

"That I really _like _him!"

The words escaped her before she realised what she was saying. Appalled, Ember sat in complete silence as the echo of her screech faded away. Spyro looked as though he'd been turned to stone, his eyes wide and stunned as it slowly dawned on him just what Ember had admitted. A small blush crept across the scales of his cheeks, but it was nothing compared to Ember's embarrassment. Her scales burned cherry red as, aghast at having admitted her secret, she turned her face away from Spyro.

'_Should have seen that coming…_' was Spyro's only thought after he'd gotten over the shock. Of course, if the purple dragon hadn't been quite so dense, he _would_ have seen it coming. But when it came to reading the emotions of dragonesses, Spyro fell quite behind. But why was Ember telling _him_ this?

"You…like him," Spyro mumbled. "As in…actually _like _him?"

"Yes!" Ember squeaked, her eyes burning with anger. "Why else would I say it? Oh, I can't believe I admitted that to you…"

For a moment Spyro was at a loss as he tried to figure out what was going on. He'd asked for a reason for her odd behaviour towards him, and this was the answer she'd given him. But it didn't make any sense. Perhaps voicing it aloud would make it all come clear.

"So, you've been flirting with me…because you like Flame?" Spyro raised an eyebrow. Saying it out loud only made it sound even more ridiculous to the purple dragon.

"No!" Ember yelled and then faltered, before mumbling quietly. "Well…yes…"

Spyro heaved a sigh and shook his head. Nothing made sense. He'd wanted an answer to his question, not a cryptic clue that barely seemed to relate at all. Turning his head towards the balcony, Spyro watched as the first few drops of rain began to fall. It was almost dark. If his head hadn't been so full of confused questions, Spyro may have remembered that he was well overdue for his meeting with Cynder in the gardens. But, unfortunately, that had slipped his mind.

"Ember," he sighed, turning to face her again, "you're going to have to explain. I'm not following at all."

"Ugh," Ember groaned and resumed pacing around Spyro's room, "I forgot how dense male dragons are."

'_I resent that_,' thought Spyro with the smallest of fleeting scowls, but said nothing.

"Flame's been my only friend since I was hatchling. It's always been just me and him, no other dragons our age, and we've been very close. Even back then he didn't seem to notice me, not in the way that I noticed him, anyway," Ember continued pacing as Spyro wondered if this was going anywhere.

"When you came, I thought things would change. I thought that if Flame realised that he wasn't the only one—I mean, the only male dragon our age—then maybe he'd start to notice me. If he saw you as competition for me, maybe he'd realise that he _did _like me and do something about it. But nothing changed!"

Spyro raised a quizzical eyebrow. As far as he could see, Flame _did_ consider him competition. But maybe that competition wasn't particularly what Ember had in mind.

Ember continued her rant with more passion, her eyes burning like blue fire, "He never asks me to do anything with him, he hardly ever accepts when I ask him to go for a walk, and he's barely even talking to me! I try to get some time alone with him, and he just walks away! I don't get it! Does he really not _care_ about me?"

"How does this concern me?" Spyro wondered aloud, folding his paws in front of his chest as he considered the ranting pink dragoness.

"I'm getting to that!" Ember snapped, and Spyro quickly shut his mouth. Never interrupt a dragoness when she's ranting.

"I wanted to get Flame's attention," the pink dragoness continued, calming down slightly, "so I thought he might get jealous if I made it seem like I wanted to hang around you more than I did with him. But it didn't really work. He still refuses to take walks with me, or spend time with me. It's like the only thing he cares about is fighting!"

"Go on," Spyro yawned, laying his head on his paws and receiving another glare from the pink dragoness.

"So I tried picking it up a notch," Ember sighed, tapping her claws on the floor. "I wanted to make it seem like I _really _liked you. I thought if I did then Flame would become jealous of you and realise how much he liked me. I guess I should have asked you before trying it, though…"

"You mean the only reason you've been flirting with me is because you want to make Flame jealous?" Spyro gaped, raising his head off his paws, hardly able to believe what he had heard.

Ember chewed her lip anxiously and nodded, "Yeah…"

Groaning, Spyro pushed himself to his feet and plodded over to the pink dragoness, "Ember, that's insane. How could you think that something like that could possibly work?"

"But it _is_ working!" Ember insisted. "…Sort of. He's noticing me more now, I'm sure of it."

"Then why did he walk away when you asked him to walk with you this afternoon?" Spyro asked dryly, not convinced.

The pink dragoness snorted and turned her face away, "He was…just annoyed about being beat up by Cynder…"

"Ember…" Spyro groaned and dropped his head, "I really don't think you've thought this through. Flame's not going to notice you if all you ever do is flirt with me. He's just going to hate me more and more and I don't want that! I've got enough to deal with as it is! So please, stop this!"

"But Spyro, how else can I get him to like me?" Ember stared desperately at the purple dragon. "What else can I do?"

The purple dragon heaved another sigh and looked Ember squarely in the eye, "Have you ever considered that he might like you already? Why don't you just tell him...?"

Ember looked simply appalled by that idea, "I can't do that! How can you even suggest that? I can't just walk up to my best friend and tell him suddenly how much I love him! Do you have any idea how hard that is?"

Spyro faltered, the truth of her words suddenly dawning on him. She was right of course, and Spyro did know first hand just how hard it was to say those words to someone he cared so much for.

"Y-You're right…" he mumbled, lowering his eyes shamefully. "I guess that's…out of the question. But, Ember, you can't keep this up! It won't help! And anyway, I've already got someone I care a lot for…"

At that moment Spyro suddenly realised what he had forgotten. Alarm and horror filled his expression, and he almost dashed for the door.

"Oh no, Cynder!" he yelped. "I forgot! I was supposed to meet her at sunset! It's already dark! Sorry, Ember, I have to go, _now_!"

But the pink dragoness pulled him back, her expression desperate, "Spyro, wait! I need you to promise me something!"

Spyro halted, flustered, "Ember, I really need to go!"

"Promise me!" she begged, her eyes staring pleadingly into his. "Promise me that you won't tell anyone about this!"

"What?" Spyro halted and turned back to her, completely unaware of the listener at the door.

* * *

Hunter had spent the day hoping the rain would hold off until he reached the cover of the dragon city of Warfang. Shouldering his bow and quiver of arrows, the cheetah constantly shot wary looks at the threatening, grey sky as he made his way towards the city. But the rain mercifully held back for most of the day, and Hunter was pleased that he'd managed the trip without becoming soaked.

His luck ran out, however, as dusk fell and the walls of the dragon city came into view. It was at that moment that the clouds finally gave way. It was slow at first, merely a few droplets that fell and seeped into Hunter's golden fur. The cheetah held out a paw, pad upwards, and watched as a cold droplet splashed against it and rolled into his fur. Sighing, Hunter drew his cloak tighter around his body and picked up his pace. But the rain wasn't waiting for anyone.

It increased to a steady drizzle, and Hunter was forced to pull up his hood to protect his sensitive ears from the cold rain. The water seeped through the fabric of his cloak, drenching his fur, and he broke into a swift jog. Cursing his bad luck, Hunter dashed for the wall as the skies suddenly opened up and the rain gushed down in buckets. Reaching the large, wooden door set into the stone wall, the cheetah hammered on it with all his might and hoped that someone would hear him.

The thudding of his paws on the wooden door must have alerted someone, for it swung inwards suddenly and revealed a large, green dragon on the other side. Hunter couldn't keep the relief from his face as he dashed through the doorway and into the city.

"Hunter!" Terrador boomed, having been the one to open the door. "You're drenched! What on earth possessed you to come out in the rain?"

The cheetah laughed softly, "Believe me, it wasn't raining when I left."

"Yes, well, we'd best be out of this rain before we freeze to death," the earth guardian suggested, and led the drenched cheetah towards the nearest shelter.

With the lack of fire lanterns to light up the night, the city appeared very dark indeed, and very wet. Hunter followed Terrador closely, hugging his wet cloak to his body in a vain effort to keep warm. The two friends dashed into a nearby building, into a large, round room lit by lanterns around the walls and a small fireplace across the far side of the room. There were several doors branching off into separate rooms, and a large, circular, red carpet in the centre of the room. Terrador shut the door behind him and stood shaking droplets off his scales as Hunter removed his drenched cloak.

"This is the guardians' quarters?" the cheetah asked, wringing his cloak roughly in an attempt to dry it out.

"Yes," Terrador confirmed and plodded slowly towards the merry, dancing flames of the fireplace. "You're welcome to stay here for the night. My room should be big enough for the both of us. Now, come and dry yourself by the fire, my friend."

Hunter accepted gratefully, pausing to hang his cloak on the doorknob before hurrying to the earth guardian's side. He sat down on the carpet, rubbing his cold paws together in front of the flames as droplets of water rolled down his furry muzzle. He laid his bow and quiver on the carpet beside him and craned his head to look up at the large earth dragon.

"So, tell me, Terrador, it's been a few weeks since I last visited. How have things been since then?"

The earth guardian heaved a deep sigh and settled down comfortably beside Hunter, folding his large, green paws in front of his chest. "Not so good, I'm afraid. Much has happened in these past weeks; things that do not bode well with the survival of our species."

"Those are ominous words, Terrador," Hunter replied, glancing sidelong at him as his golden fur glimmered in the firelight. "Tell me everything that has happened."

* * *

Cynder paced the gardens anxiously, glancing every few moments at the ever-darkening sky. The sunset was ending, turning day into night as the rainclouds threatened to break and spill water over the land. There was no sign of Spyro at all, and Cynder continued her worried pacing as she waited for him to show up. Just where was he, anyway? He'd promised to meet her at sunset, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, the black dragoness ceased her pacing and sat down beneath a tree, gazing dejectedly at the sky as she waited for the purple dragon to come. Maybe he'd been distracted by something, held back by the guardians, or maybe Flame had picked another fight with him. Cynder couldn't be sure. Spyro had never let her down before, and she was sure that he would show up eventually. At least, she hoped so.

The first drop of rain fell as the sun finally disappeared into darkness. Cynder flinched as the cold drop of water bounced off the end of her muzzle, startling her. Sighing sadly, the black dragoness sat and waited as it began to drizzle.

"Maybe he forgot," Cynder sighed, and looked hopefully at the sky for any sign of Spyro. But there was none. He wasn't there, and Cynder was beginning to believe that he wasn't going to come.

"Hey, Cynder, what are you doing out here?"

The black dragoness turned at the sound of the new voice in time to see Sparx buzzing towards her through the drizzling rain. She offered him a strained smile as he hovered to her side.

"You're all wet," the dragonfly stated, forgetting that he was too. The drizzling rain was beginning to fall harder.

"I know," Cynder waved a paw, and then looked curiously at him. "Hey, do you know where Spyro is?"

"Spyro?" Sparx scratched his head and looked in the direction of the purple dragon's room. "He's probably in his room, hiding from the rain, if I know my lazy brother. Why?"

A frown appeared on Cynder's face, "Well, he said he'd meet me here at sunset, but he hasn't come."

"Maybe he forgot?" Sparx suggested, shrugging, unknowingly repeating Cynder's previous thought.

"Maybe," the black dragoness agreed, and shook her head roughly as cold droplets of rain bounced off her scales.

"Let's go see him, then," the dragonfly beckoned for her to follow, "and get out of this rain. My wings are getting drenched!"

Cynder agreed with a simple nod and followed the yellow dragonfly through the darkness and drizzle, towards the purple dragon's room. Thousands of scenarios raced through her head as she tried to find a reason for Spyro's failure to show up. It wasn't like him at all, and Cynder hoped it was merely a case of forgetfulness on his part. The dragonfly and the dragoness were glad to step into shelter as the rain began to fall harder, and paused for a while to shake themselves dry. Cynder shook her body like a dog, sending droplets of water flying and drenching an irate Sparx even further.

"Oi!" the dragonfly snapped, wiping water from his arm. "Keep your water to yourself!"

Cynder only smirked at him and said nothing. She left the dragonfly to dry his wings off as she moved deeper into the corridor and headed toward Spyro's room. It was warm and dry in here at least, lit by lanterns along the walls. She padded softly along the corridor, approaching Spyro's closed door, and paused as she heard the sound of voices within. She heard Spyro yell something, but couldn't quite make out what he had said. Her curiosity sparked, Cynder crept stealthily closer to his door.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone about this!" Was that Ember's voice? Cynder narrowed her eyes and crept closer to the door.

"What?" that was Spyro, sounding slightly bemused. Cynder listened closely, her suspicion aroused.

"Spyro, promise me! No one can know about this!" Ember sounded desperate, her voice slightly muffled on the other side of the door.

"No one?" Spyro asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"No! You can't tell anyone! Not even Cynder!" Cynder's eyes widened in surprise at the sound of her name.

"Cynder? Why?"

The black dragoness pressed herself to the door, listening closely, ignoring Sparx as he hovered up quietly behind her.

"What if she tells Flame?" Ember gasped, sounding appalled. "And she'll probably try to keep you away from me…"

"Why would she do that?" Spyro was still confused.

Sparx leant close to Cynder's head, "Hey, what's going on?"

"Hush!" Cynder hissed, as loudly as she dared, wrapping her tail around the meddling dragonfly. "Be quiet!"

Startled, Sparx nodded and drew a finger across his lips in a zipping motion. Cynder glared at him for a moment and then turned her attention back to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"I don't see why we have to keep this a secret," Spyro was saying. "You should tell Flame. I mean, you don't want him getting the wrong idea…"

"No! Spyro, please!" Ember begged. "Tell no one! Not Flame, not the guardians, not Cynder! This is our secret! Just between you and me, okay?"

Anger flared in Cynder's heart at those words, and she nudged the door gently. It opened slowly, revealing a small crack that Cynder could look through. She could see Ember and Spyro standing alone in Spyro's room, facing one another, illuminated only by a single lantern on the wall.

The purple dragon sighed and bowed his head, "Alright…I won't tell anyone. Not even Cynder. I promise."

Ember's eyes lit up as he said those words and she threw herself at him, wrapping her paws around his neck in a grateful hug. Instantly, jealousy and anger welled up in Cynder's heart. Spyro wasn't even trying to pull away from Ember, and the black dragoness could barely believe what she had just heard. Hurt and betrayal filled her heart, and she felt her eyes burn with angry tears.

Spyro and Ember leapt apart as the door slammed open, startling them both as it crashed against the wall and revealed a furious, black dragoness standing in the doorway. Shocked, the purple dragon turned towards her.

"Cynder!" he yelped, his eyes wide as he noticed her furious expression.

For a moment the black dragoness was too angry to speak, her emerald eyes blazing with a fire that Spyro had never seen before. Her whole body trembled with rage, and she could barely spit her words out.

"You…!" she snarled. "You…you jerk! I can't _believe _you!"

Spyro stumbled backwards in the face of her anger, "Cy-Cyn…!"

"How could you?" Cynder exploded, her fury causing Ember to squeal and flatten herself to the ground. "I thought you were better than this, Spyro! Just what do you think you're playing at?"

"Cynder, I'm sorry, I forgot that I was supposed to meet with you," Spyro apologised, cringing under her angry glare. "I didn't mean to upset y—!"

"Save it!" the black dragoness screeched, shutting him up instantly. "I thought I knew you, Spyro! I thought you actually _liked _me! After everything we've been through together you…you'd forsake me for _her_?"

Horror filled Spyro's eyes, "No! It's not like that, Cynder, I—!"

Hot tears threatened to spill down Cynder's cheeks, and she cut him off with an anguished screech that hurt both his ears and his heart. Ember trembled on the ground, her blue eyes wide and shimmering with fear in the face of an anger she'd never experienced before.

"Don't lie to me! I heard everything you said! Keep it a secret, huh? You really think you could have kept this a secret from me!" Cynder's eyes swam with tears, her teeth clenched in anger. "I can't believe you'd even consider something like that!"

"Cynder, please, listen to me!" Spyro begged, taking a hesitant step forwards. "You've…you've got it wrong…"

"Just stop, Spyro!" Cynder yelled, her voice cracking as the tears finally broke and began to stream down her cheeks. "I…misjudged you…"

With a sound somewhere between a screech and a sob, Cynder turned and fled down the hallway without a second glance. Spyro yelled her name and dashed after her, leaving Ember still trembling on the floor and Sparx hovering stunned in the doorway. The pink dragoness and the dragonfly exchanged worried glances before hurrying after them.

Spyro sped through the hallway after the fleeing form of the black dragoness, straining every muscle in his body to keep up with her. His paws hammered against the stone floor, louder even than the pouring rain that could be heard outside. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it hurt, and his scales burned hot like fire, but he didn't stop running. Outside, the hammering of the rain became louder, and Spyro watched as Cynder dashed out into the downpour without stopping.

The purple dragon picked up his pace, his breathing loud and laboured, and fled out into the darkness of the city and the thrashing torrents of rain. The cobblestones were slippery beneath his paws, and the lashing rain stung his eyes. Twice he almost slipped over, but he didn't stop. Cynder's sleek, black form could barely be seen in the darkness, but Spyro never took his eyes off her.

"Cynder! Cynder, wait!"

She didn't heed his yells, and Spyro decided on a different tactic. Tensing the muscles in his back legs, the purple dragon pushed off from the ground and leapt towards the fleeing dragoness. He collided with her painfully, sending the two of them tumbling over the wet cobblestones as the rain hammered down upon them. Struggling upright, Spyro reached for Cynder, but she had already staggered to her feet.

"Leave me alone!" she screeched, evading him as he reached to hold her back.

"Cynder, please, listen to me!" Spyro begged, placing a paw on top of her tailblade and pinning it to the ground.

"No, you listen to me!" Cynder replied furiously, spinning around and yanking her tail away from Spyro's grasp. "I thought I understood you, Spyro! I thought that after everything we've been through that maybe you might have actually _cared _about me! And I thought that maybe you understood how _I _felt!"

Spyro shrank back as she took a furious step forward, thrusting her muzzle in his face. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, her tears mingling with the water falling from the sky.

"I _love _you, Spyro! I _love _you!" Cynder cried, raising her voice above the thrashing of the rain. "I've tried to say it again and again, and I thought that maybe you felt the same about me! I really thought that you cared about me, Spyro! But instead I find you going behind my back with…with _her_! And you weren't even going to tell me about it!"

This wasn't how Spyro had envisioned it. Cynder had just confessed to him, told him the words he had longed to hear and say to her, but this wasn't what he wanted at all. Hurt and shame filled his soul, and Spyro tried once more to redeem himself and explain things to the hysterical black dragoness.

"Cynder, you've got it wrong!" he cried, "Just let me explain! I—!"

With a shriek of pure fury, Cynder drew back her paw and slapped Spyro hard across the face. The purple dragon stumbled and almost fell as the force of her strike made his mind reel and caused his head to jerk to the side. Her claws tore into his cheek, drawing blood and leaving three jagged gashes across his scales. Stunned, Spyro stood staring at the furious black dragoness standing before him, blood dripping down his cheek.

"You're…despicable," Cynder hissed, and turned her face away.

Her body trembled and she turned away from the purple dragon with an anguished sob, dashing through the rain and into the cloak of darkness. Spyro stared stunned after her, a cold feeling spreading throughout his entire body.

"Cy-Cynder…" he whispered, unable to even yell after her.

His trembling legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed onto the drenched cobblestones, as the rain continued its torrential downpour. Ember and Sparx stood under the shelter of the hallway, having witnessed the whole thing. The pink dragoness trembled and felt tears fill her eyes as she witnessed Cynder strike Spyro across the face. Sparx covered his eyes, unable to watch, and only looked again when he heard Ember leave his side.

The pink dragoness dashed towards the purple dragon as he collapsed on the ground, ignoring the fact that she was getting drenched. Sparx hesitated before hovering after her, wringing his hands anxiously. Ember skidded to a halt at Spyro's side, crouching down to nudge him to his feet. But Spyro refused to get up. He merely lay like a rag on the ground, his eyes staring blankly at the darkness into which Cynder had disappeared.

"Spyro, Spyro, please get up!" Ember begged, her lips quivering as salty tears streamed down her cheeks and mingled with the rain that splattered her face.

The purple dragon made no answer, and didn't even turn to glance at her. Trembling, Ember tried nudging him again, her wings shaking under the onslaught of cold rain.

"Spyro, you can't stay out here," she pleaded, her voice hitching with sobs. "You…you've got to get inside…please…"

"Cynder is…" Spyro mumbled, barely audible through the gushing of the rain. "She…she's gone…"

Ember body trembled with sobs as she tried again and again to push Spyro to his feet, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Spyro, I didn't mean for this to happen! I'm sorry!"

The purple dragon flopped limply as Ember tried once more to nudge him upright, but he made no move to get up. Sparx hovered a small distance away, watching the proceedings in silence, the only light in the dark city. A loud sob escaped Ember's lips and she pushed her forehead against Spyro's cold, wet shoulder.

"Please, Spyro, get up! I'll…I'll talk to Cynder for you, I'll tell her the truth…I…"

"She won't listen," Spyro whispered, his voice almost lost in the rain, his eyes blank and staring.

Ember shook her head roughly, sending droplets of rain flying, "Then, please, tell me what I can do! What can I do to help you? Spyro…!"

"Leave."

Startled, Ember leant back and stared at the purple dragon. He had turned his head and was gazing at her with doleful eyes that appeared blank and grey in the darkness.

"Just leave me be," Spyro mumbled and turned his eyes away from her once more, his head rolling on the cobblestones.

Tears rolled unchecked down Ember's cheeks and she shook her head slowly, trembling, "Y-You can't mean that…"

"Just leave," Spyro whispered again, not even bothering to meet her eyes again.

Ember took a step back, staring horrified at the purple dragon lying limply on the cobblestones. She hadn't expected this to happen, she hadn't meant to hurt Spyro or Cynder. But now, at the sight of Spyro lying alone in the rain, Ember felt her heart shatter with guilt.

"Spyro…" she whispered, a sob escaping her lips.

He didn't reply, and Ember turned away from his prone body. She dashed for cover, out of the pouring rain, and took one last regretful look back at the purple dragon. He didn't move.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed and, without another word, fled from the scene.

Sparx hovered above his brother, wringing his hands as he gazed down at the purple dragon and wondered what to say. Spyro didn't move an inch, until his shoulders began to tremble. Sparx felt his heart ache with pity as a tear rolled down Spyro's muzzle and dropped onto the already soaked ground beneath him.

"Spyro…" the dragonfly murmured, and reached out a hand to place on his brother's horn.

"Just go, Sparx," Spyro said heavily, closing his eyes against the tears that fell. "Just go."

Sparx removed his hand from Spyro's horn and backed away, his face a mask of pity and hurt. But Spyro didn't even raise his head to look at his adoptive brother.

"Alright, Spyro," Sparx sighed, his wings drooping in the rain, "I'll go."

With one last sorrowful glance, Sparx turned away from the purple dragon and hovered back towards their shared room. Alone in the darkness, Spyro allowed his tears to flow freely and his body to shake with sobs. He didn't move from his spot on the ground, his wings spread out over the cobblestones as the rain fell mercilessly and drenched him to the bone. Even his tears disappeared, mingling with the rain as they flowed down Spyro's snout and dripped onto the ground.

The downpour continued well into the night, falling over the mighty city of Warfang and the lone figure of the purple dragon.

**A/N: Ugh...I hate pathogens. I'm just going to go crawl in a hole and sulk about having a cold. I hope you enjoyed the short quick chapter. Thank you everyone for reviewing, I'd give you all hugs but I might infect you with my germs. Thanks for reading!**


	17. Sorrow and Anger

**17. Sorrow and Anger**

Warfang was a wet city. Droplets of water hung precariously beneath awnings and on the undersides of guttering and rails, occasionally falling to splash on the already-soaked cobblestone streets. Puddles rested in the uneven surfaces of the roads, disturbed only when a careless dragon or mole splashed passed and sent water flying. And yet, despite how much rain had fallen, the rain clouds still remained heavy in the sky, threatening to spill at any moment.

Hunter stepped out into the street early that morning, donning his now dry cloak that had spent the night hanging by the fire. His ear twitched as a cold droplet of water fell from the gutters above him and rolled into his fur. Scowling, Hunter glared at the drenched ground beneath his paws and drew his cloak tighter around him.

With the weight of his bow and quiver of arrows gone, left behind in the guardians' chambers, Hunter was free to wander the cold, wet city. But it didn't seem like a particularly pleasant day for a stroll, so instead Hunter headed for the main hall.

He'd only walked a few paces when his gaze was caught by the figure of the purple dragon. Spyro was plodding in the direction of the main hall and Hunter paused in his tracks to watch him. Perhaps it was the way he walked, with his head bowed, his tail scraping along the ground and his wings limp against his sides, but something told the cheetah that not all was right with his purple friend. Ignoring the puddles of water that had gathered between stones on the road, Hunter strode towards Spyro and raised a paw in greeting.

"Spyro!" he called, hoping to catch the dragon's attention. But Spyro didn't even raise his head. Instead he continued his slow pace towards the main hall.

Frowning, Hunter picked up his pace and wondered by Spyro hadn't responded. The purple dragon had never ignored him before, and Hunter didn't believe he would start now. Perhaps he hadn't heard.

"Spyro!" he called again, louder, as he approached.

This time, Spyro raised his head. He stopped his slow walk and watched the cheetah hurrying towards him, but said nothing to greet him. Hunter slowed to a walk as he approached the dragon, his sharp eyes suddenly noticing everything he'd missed. Not only did Spyro look as though he'd hardly even slept, but his purple scales were thoroughly drenched, splattered with multiple, shining droplets. His eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were dull and almost colourless. Worry instantly sprang into Hunter's heart.

"Everything okay?" he asked anxiously, kneeling down to the young dragon's level.

Spyro stared dolefully at him for a moment and then nodded slowly, turning his eyes away from the cheetah. He didn't say a word, which was very unlike him, and Hunter's fears were far from alleviated. He was about to speak again, when the purple dragon suddenly opened his mouth.

"I didn't know you were in the city," Spyro murmured, not looking at him. There was something about his voice that was just wrong. It was as though there was no longer any emotion in it.

"I arrived last night," Hunter replied, searching Spyro's face anxiously with his eyes. "It's good to see you again, Spyro. But you don't seem all that well. Is there something wrong?"

The purple dragon turned his sad eyes to Hunter again, and for a moment the cheetah thought he was about to tell him what was wrong. But then Spyro turned his eyes to the ground again and murmured a soft, "No."

Hunter sighed and stood up again, "Alright."

"It's good to see you again," Spyro murmured suddenly, and Hunter turned to see him attempt a smile. But it was weak and barely there, a ghost of the usual grin that Hunter was so accustomed to seeing. There was something wrong and Hunter knew it.

"It's good to be back in the city," Hunter replied, returning a strained smile and wishing he knew what was wrong with his young dragon friend, "even if the weather is a little miserable."

The walk to the main hall was damp and filled with an awkward silence that Hunter wasn't sure how to break. Spyro's blank eyes stared ahead in sadness as he plodded slowly beside the cheetah, the only noise being the scraping of his tail against the cobblestones. Hunter constantly shot him anxious looks, twisting the hem of his cloak between his paws as he racked his brain for a reason for Spyro's actions.

What could have upset the usually cheerful purple dragon? The cheetah's thoughts turned to the conversation he'd shared with Terrador the previous night, and Hunter wondered if the recent events regarding the missing search party could have had such an effect on Spyro. But it just wasn't like Spyro to let things like that get him down.

Hunter was grateful when they finally stepped into the warmth of the main hall, and the silence was suddenly replaced by the cheerful chatter of dragons. The cheetah paused to search the hall for a familiar face: Cynder perhaps, or one of the guardians. But he remembered the guardians had yet to rise from their chambers, and the young black dragoness was nowhere to be found. Instead, Hunter's eyes fell on the only other young dragons in the whole city.

"Look, Spyro, Ember and Flame are over there. Shall we join them?" Hunter suggested to the purple dragon, who hadn't even raised his head when they entered the hall.

He raised his dull eyes slowly and gazed blankly towards the two young dragons across the hall, "Sure, Hunter."

Hunter winced as Spyro's emotionless words dropped like heavy stones, and the purple dragon once more fell into melancholy silence. Sighing, Hunter raised a hand to his head and ruffled the damp fur between his ears. Perhaps joining Flame wasn't a good idea, the cheetah reminded himself as he remembered the certain animosity the red dragon shared with Spyro. He was jerked out of his thoughts by a yell from across the room.

"Hey, Spyro!" Naxos roared, raising a dark blue wing. "Come join us! Bring your friend!"

Relieved, Hunter smiled at the yellow dragon and addressed Spyro again, "Sounds like an invitation. Come on, Spyro."

The purple dragon didn't reply, but Hunter attempted to ignore that as he led him over to Naxos and his two companions. Delos raised his head as the cheetah and the young dragon approached, his yellow eyes zoning in on Spyro almost instantly.

"What's up, Spyro? You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night," the red dragon pointed out, and received a blow to the back of the head from Naxos's tailblade.

Naxos ignored Delos's furious snarl of "what the heck?" and addressed Spyro himself, "Looks like you could use a good meal, Spyro! You're drenched too. What did you do, fall in a puddle?"

The yellow dragon's wide grin was usually infectious, but Spyro didn't even crack a smile. Hunter sighed and sat down opposite Naxos and Delos on one of the large square cushions, leaning his elbows on the edge of the shallow table. Spyro sat down next to him and kept his eyes on the table, his wings drooping as his shoulders sank. Naxos's grin faded slowly and he exchanged an anxious glance with Delos, who shrugged in confusion.

"Everything okay?" the yellow dragon asked, leaning across the table towards the purple dragon.

Spyro raised his gaze briefly and then looked away, "Yeah…"

Delos raised an eyebrow, "Sure don't seem like it. I'm starved; where are those moles, anyway?"

"Is that all you ever think about?" Chios grumbled, who had been sitting on the other said of Delos. She smiled kindly at Spyro from across the table, but he barely acknowledged it.

Shaking his head, Naxos turned his attention instead on Hunter, "Oh yeah, who are you again? I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"My name is Hunter," the cheetah introduced himself, "from Avalar. I was here when you first arrived at Warfang, and I've just come back for a visit."

"Oh yeah," Naxos grinned, "I remember seeing you in the Atrium when we met the guardians. Nice to meet you. The name's Naxos, by the way."

"I'm Delos," the red dragon added, half raising his wing in greeting.

"Chios!" the green dragon piped up from the other side of Delos, craning her head around the two male dragons to face Hunter.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Hunter smiled, but his smile faded when his gaze fell on the melancholy Spyro. The purple dragon hadn't said a word, gazing blankly at the table in heavy silence.

The three older dragons across the table all followed Hunter's gaze to the purple dragon, their faces sporting identical anxious expressions. For a moment none of them spoke, until the uncomfortable silence was broken by the arrival of a trio of moles.

"What can we get for you?" one piped up, startling the dragons and the cheetah out of their thoughts.

Delos's eyes lit up, "Deer!"

"Actually, they're moles," Naxos pointed out, and sniggered when the red dragon whirled on him.

"I meant that I wanted some deer, you dolt!" Delos snapped, and missed Chios rolling her eyes behind his back.

"Personally, I think it's too early for meat," the green dragoness pondered and then added, "I prefer fruit."

"It's never too early for meat!" Naxos looked appalled, and then jerked his head at Delos. "I'll have what he's having. Deer sounds good to me. What about you, Spyro?"

The purple dragon blinked and raised his head, looking as though he'd forgotten where he was. He looked flustered for a moment, turning his gaze from Naxos to the moles and then back to the table.

"A-Anything, really…" he mumbled unhelpfully, scratching at the surface of the table with a single claw.

"Anything, huh?" Naxos grinned and turned to the moles. "Bring him some deer. He looks like he needs it."

The moles saluted sharply and turned their attention on Hunter, the only one who hadn't spoken. The cheetah pondered for a moment, tapping his chin with a claw as he thought.

"I don't suppose you have any fish?" Hunter asked, remembering the fish he and the other cheetahs often caught in the river in the Valley of Avalar.

"Fish it is!" agreed the moles, and like three furry cannonballs they shot back across the hall and disappeared into the kitchen. Hunter watched them go with some amusement, unused to being waited on, especially by moles.

While they waited for the moles to return, the four dragons and Hunter engaged in playful conversation, but only for a short while. Spyro barely spoke a word, and soon Hunter found his thoughts drifting elsewhere as Delos and Naxos argued quietly between each other. The cheetah turned his gaze to the huge hall, gazing around at the crowd of dragons as he searched for familiar faces. He spotted the guardians entering the hall and watched them as they sat down together across the other side of the room. But there was one dragon he couldn't see, no matter how hard he looked.

"I wonder where Cynder is this morning," Hunter wondered aloud, still gazing around the room.

Had he been looking at Spyro at the time, Hunter would have noticed the way the purple dragon flinched and tensed up. But he didn't see, and the anguished look on Spyro's face went unnoticed. Naxos and Delos raised their heads, halting their conversation to answer Hunter.

"Cynder, huh?" Naxos gazed around the room, "I don't know. I'm surprised she's not with you, Spyro. Maybe she slept in."

Spyro felt as though he might shrink as the sound of Cynder's name sent sharp pains like daggers through his heart. His head sank lower as he unconsciously attempted to make himself smaller and escape the horrible feelings within his chest.

So she wasn't in the hall. Spyro had expected as much, but the thought that she was trying to avoid him only made him feel cold. He wanted to find her, to speak to her and tell her what had really happened, but he felt at the moment as if he couldn't even face her. His cheek ached where she had scratched him, a constant reminder of the night before. Not that he could ever forget the look on her face as she turned and ran from him.

The lack of Cynder didn't seem to bother the other three dragons, and they soon ceased their attempts to locate her in the hall. Delos, who was sitting directly across from Spyro, was the first to notice the purple dragon's expression. His eyes were screwed shut as though in pain, and he'd lowered his head in what seemed like an attempt to make himself look smaller. The red dragon blinked in confusion and stared hard at the purple dragon, wondering just what was wrong with him. Neither Naxos nor Chios seemed to have noticed.

"Spyro?" Delos asked softly, lowering his voice and leaning across the table. "Something wrong?"

Startled, Spyro quickly opened his eyes and met Delos's gaze. He quickly turned his face away from the older dragon and stared at a patch of floor not far away from where he sat.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but the lack of emotion in his voice told Delos otherwise.

Spyro was saved from Delos's inquiries, however, by the sound of Naxos's voice as the moles returned.

"Ahh, deer!" the yellow dragon cried, and instantly Delos seized the opportunity.

"No, Naxos, moles," he corrected his friendly rival, and was rewarded with yet another blow to the back of the head. Hunter was beginning to think this was a regular occurrence.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, as Delos and Naxos wolfed down their deer at record speeds, disgusting Chios as she picked delicately at her fruit. Spyro sat for a while gazing at his own meal, but it seemed even the tantalizing smell of deer couldn't work up his appetite. He nibbled half-heartedly at one side of the chunk of meat, tearing off tiny strips of deer with little enthusiasm. Hunter watched him anxiously out of the corner of his eye, pondering just what could possibly be wrong with him.

The cheetah was just about to address Spyro, when the purple dragon stood up abruptly and announced that he was leaving. Shocked, Hunter and the other three dragons watched the purple dragon plod slowly out of the hall, leaving most of his deer behind. A silence passed as the four exchanged confused glances.

"What was that about?" Naxos wondered, not noticing as Delos's claw slowly edged towards Spyro's uneaten meal.

Hunter stared after Spyro anxiously and shook his head slowly, "I'm not sure."

"He seemed upset," Chios noted, shrugging her green shoulders.

"What about, I wonder?" Delos mumbled, tearing strips off Spyro's uneaten deer and stuffing them into his mouth.

Hunter didn't stay in the hall much longer. He left Delos and Naxos to wrestle over the deer that Spyro had left behind, and strode back out into the streets in search of the purple dragon. Whatever was wrong with him, Hunter was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Unfortunately for Hunter, Spyro was determined not to be found. The instant he left the hall, he took to the skies and soared over the city as he tried to think of a place to hide. He didn't dare go anywhere near Cynder's balcony. Just the very thought of seeing her after last night almost caused tears to spring into Spyro's eyes once more. He could only imagine how she must have been feeling, but at the moment he didn't think he could even face her.

After a few moments, Spyro chose his destination and soared silently towards the roof of the atrium. He landed and curled up on the cold stone, gazing down at the almost empty city. Desolately, Spyro remembered the last time he had sat here, barely two days ago, with Cynder at his side.

Burying his face in his paws, the purple dragon attempted fruitlessly to block those thoughts out as he wondered how things could have changed so quickly. He'd wanted nothing more than to tell Cynder his true feelings, but now, because of his own foolishness, she didn't even want to look at him. Alone, without even Sparx for company, Spyro curled up on the roof of the atrium, a lonely dragon above a lonely city.

* * *

Sparx was, at that very moment, with the one black dragoness that so occupied and tortured Spyro's thoughts. But the dragonfly truly had no idea how to comfort Cynder as she lay sobbing in her room, her head buried in the red fabric of the cushions on her floor. She'd been like that all night, and Sparx knew it. He'd gone straight to find her after Spyro had sent him away, and had found her bawling her eyes out as though somebody had died.

The dragonfly had spent the night beside the dragoness, unable to sleep because of her wracking sobs, but he still had no idea how to comfort her.

It had been close to dawn before Cynder finally found sleep, but with the rise of the sun the black dragoness awoke once more. Sparx had hoped that once the skies had stopped crying, Cynder would too. But even though the rain had abated, tears were still rolling down Cynder's black cheeks. The dragonfly had no idea how she could possibly have any tears left after crying so much, and soon it seemed he was right as the black dragoness slowly ceased her sobs.

She lay staring out at the pale grey skies, still heavy with rain clouds, her eyes red and puffy from all the crying she'd done. Hesitantly, Sparx approached her and laid a tiny hand on her horn.

"Hey," he murmured. "You okay, now?"

Cynder sniffled softly and reached a paw up to scrub at her eyes, "You didn't have to stay, Sparx…"

The dragonfly rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Yeah, but…I didn't want to leave you alone like that…"

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned her emerald eyes on Sparx and smiled half-heartedly, "I must have kept you up all night…"

"Yeah, well…" Sparx shrugged and turned his gaze away from the dragoness. "You know…"

"It's just," Cynder stared at her paws nestled in the cushion she lay upon, her claws curling to pierce the fabric, "I can't believe Spyro would…would…"

Her shoulders trembled and she clamped her eyes shut, turning her face away. Sparx hovered around to take her muzzle in his hands and stare her in the eye.

"Hey," he murmured, prompting her to open her eyes again, "just don't think about it if it hurts that much. I know Spyro can do stupid things sometimes but…I'm sure there's an explanation to this…"

Cynder pushed the dragonfly away, shaking her head, "You don't understand! How I feel about him…what I thought he might have felt for me…it was all wrong! He doesn't feel that way about me at all! And I…I still _love_ him! How can you possibly understand?"

Dumfounded, Sparx didn't say a word. Instead, he watched soundlessly as Cynder pushed herself to her feet and walked out onto the balcony, leaving a few jagged claw marks in the cushion she'd been laying on. Anxiously, Sparx wrung his hands as he hovered after her and tried to think of what to say to her.

She was right though, he realised. How could he possibly understand? Still, Sparx was sure Spyro had an explanation for that conversation he'd had with Ember. Not to mention forgetting to meet Cynder in the courtyard. The dragonfly sighed and held a hand to his head. How could his brother be so stupid?

In the silence that followed, Sparx turned his gaze towards the streets below Cynder's balcony. The first thing his gaze locked on to was the slim figure below, shielding his eyes with a paw as he gazed around the city as though in search for something. The dragonfly recognised him instantly and an idea sprung into his mind. He looked at Cynder once more and saw that she had curled up on the balcony and was gazing blankly into the distance with a desolate expression on her face. Sparx knew he couldn't cheer her up, but maybe someone else might be able to help.

Cynder barely noticed when the dragonfly hovered past her and descended down to the streets below. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, where grey clouds were waiting to spill their day's worth of rain. She didn't notice, either, as Sparx approached the figure in the street below, and was completely oblivious to the conversation that passed between dragonfly and cheetah. She did notice, however, when, minutes later, the door to her room was pushed open and someone uninvited, but not unwelcome, stepped in.

Cynder turned instantly at the sound of her creaking door, and her emerald eyes widened at the sight of a much-missed cheetah whom she hadn't seen in a number of weeks.

"H-Hunter!" she stammered, pushing herself to her feet as the cheetah entered her room with Sparx at his tail. "You're…back."

A kind smile graced Hunter's face as he approached the black dragoness, "It is good to see you again, Cynder. Forgive me for the intrusion. Perhaps I should have knocked first."

But Cynder shook her head and turned her eyes away from him, well aware of the obvious signs that she had been crying. Not doubt Hunter had noticed them. He knelt in front of her as she moved back into the room from the balcony, leaving Sparx to hover nervously behind him. Slipping his paws beneath Cynder's chin, he gently raised her head to look him in the eye.

"Sparx told me there was something wrong," Hunter explained softly. "I see he was right. You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to, but perhaps it would help if you told me what it is that is upsetting you."

Blinking rapidly, Cynder again turned her emerald gaze away from the cheetah, "Is…is it that obvious?"

Hunter smiled gently, "Even if it wasn't, I would have noticed. You weren't at the main hall this morning and Spyro, too, was acting strange."

The black dragoness winced visibly at the sound of the purple dragon's name and jerked her head away from Hunter's paws. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes again, and was surprised when she felt a soft paw descend gently on her head. Trembling, Cynder didn't dare raise her gaze to look at the cheetah as he stroked her scales reassuringly.

"It's about Spyro, isn't it?" Hunter asked, and waited patiently for the distressed dragoness to answer.

She nodded timidly after a moment, confirming the cheetah's suspicions. Cynder swallowed hard and blinked a few times before speaking, willing herself not to break down in tears again.

"He…he…" the words seemed to be stuck in her throat, and she turned her gaze helplessly to the cheetah. "Hunter, I…I love him…"

Hunter wasn't surprised by that fact. He'd seen it long before the two dragons could even admit it, but what he didn't understand was why both young dragons were acting as though something horrible had happened. Anxiously, he gazed into Cynder's pained, emerald eyes and waited for her to continue. Cynder trembled when she saw his expectant expression and willed her courage to the surface.

"But he…" she took a deep breath and had to force herself to keep his gaze. "He doesn't…feel the same…"

There. She had said it. She had expected it to bring a load off her chest, but instead it felt like a heavy rock had just been dropped into her stomach. Hunter's eyes widened in surprise at this news and his paw moved to her cheek as she attempted to drop her gaze again.

"Cynder," he prompted, determined to get to the bottom of this, "tell me what happened."

Cynder trembled, screwing her eyes shut, reluctant to speak. But her heart urged her to tell someone and, when she could no longer keep it in, Cynder blurted everything out.

She told Hunter everything that had occurred the previous night, leaving nothing out as she poured all her emotion into her words. The cheetah listened in silence to the distraught dragoness, taking it all in and keeping his expression carefully blank even as Cynder's voice continued to rise in volume. Her emerald eyes shone with emotion and her voice hitched every few words, but she didn't stop until she'd explained everything.

"I don't know what to do!" Cynder cried, blinking rapidly as her tears threatened to spill, "I don't know what to think of him anymore!"

Hushing her gently, Hunter caressed the scales of her cheeks as she slowly calmed down and fell silent. The cheetah looked over her, thinking deeply of both Cynder's story and Spyro's actions that morning. It didn't add up. Hunter was sure that the purple dragon held feelings for Cynder, and he couldn't believe that he'd turn his back on her for a different dragoness. It just didn't seem like him.

"I understand you are upset, Cynder, but you shouldn't rush to judgement," he murmured softly. "Perhaps this was all merely a misunderstanding. Spyro wouldn't—"

"How would you know what he'd do?" Cynder suddenly cried, startling the cheetah, jerking away from him, "Do you think you understand everything about him?"

"I may not understand everything about that young dragon, but I think I know him well enough to understand that he'd never purposely hurt you," Hunter replied, keeping his cool even in the face of Cynder's sudden burst of anger.

"Then you don't know him as well as I do!" she snapped, her voice rising to a pitch that almost hurt Hunter's sensitive ears.

The cheetah winced, but stared strongly into Cynder's angry eyes and replied, "You are right, Cynder. I don't know him as well as you do. But then you should know even better than I that he'd want only the best for you. He'd never hurt you, Cynder. You know that. Deep down you know that. Don't be blinded by these misunderstandings, young dragoness."

Tears sprung into Cynder's eyes and she turned her gaze away from the cheetah, "You…you don't know what you're talking about. You don't understand…you can't possibly understand…"

"I don't," Hunter agreed, surprising the dragoness, "but I know Spyro. And so do you. I know you're upset, but he is hurting just as badly as you are. Cynder, believe me. He'd never try to hurt you."

"How can I believe that?" Cynder whispered, trembling as she fought back tears. "How can I?"

"Trust Spyro," Hunter replied gently. "Trust the dragon you love and know that he he'd never willingly hurt you. Trust him."

At those words, Cynder's resolve suddenly broke. Like a distraught hatchling, the black dragoness flung herself at the startled Hunter and buried her face in his furry chest. Startled, Hunter knelt frozen as the black dragoness wept into his fur, but soon he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. Stroking her scales gently, Hunter let Cynder cry into his chest and murmured reassuring words to her.

"There's an explanation behind this," he whispered gently, "I know there is. You just need to talk to Spyro. I'm sure this was all just a big misunderstanding."

Cynder didn't reply, her sobs filling the room as she wept in Hunter's arms. The cheetah could only hope she would heed his words. He had to say he was surprised though. The last thing he had expected upon his return to Warfang was to deal with the tremulous love life of two young dragons. But he let Cynder sob into his fur without complaint, pleased that at he was able to help a little, at least.

Sparx hovered awkwardly at the balcony, watching the cheetah and the sobbing dragoness until the sound of splashing droplets drew his gaze to the grey sky outside.

It was raining again.

* * *

Spyro dreaded going to training. He'd spent the whole of the previous day atop the atrium, far from the curious glances of dragons who wondered about his melancholy state—far from Cynder. But training forced him not only into the same vicinity as the Earth Guardian and Flame, the one dragon that seemed to hate his guts, but also forced him to face the black dragoness whom he'd been so desperately avoiding. He didn't want to see the look on her face when she saw him, the look of anger and hurt that she'd given him the last time she'd seen him. How could he even face her?

So anxious was Spyro that he didn't even have an appetite for breakfast, and spent the first half of the day cowering in his room as he tried to think of an excuse to get out of training. But by the time the midday bell rang, he hadn't thought up one. So, feeling anxious and dreading what awaited him, Spyro left his room and proceeded towards the western courtyard where Terrador was probably already waiting. He walked slowly, dragging his paws reluctantly, but all too soon he spotted the large green form of the earth guardian.

Terrador stood impatiently tapping his claws on the ground as he waited for his students to arrive. Flame was already there, right on time as always, with Ember waiting anxiously beside him. Not far away, he could see Spyro making his way towards the courtyard, much slower than he would have liked. But there didn't seem to be any sign of Cynder. Heaving a deep sigh, Terrador waited until Spyro had plodded to his side.

"Trouble getting out of bed, Spyro?" he asked accusingly. "You look half-asleep."

The purple dragon shook his head, giving a strained smile in reply. He was rather tired, having stayed up late with thoughts of Cynder running through his head. Spyro blinked, surprised, when he noticed the absence of the black dragoness, and his gaze turned instead to Ember. He hadn't spoken to her, either, since that night. She was staring apologetically at him, looking both guilty and upset, but she didn't say a word. Sighing, Spyro wished he hadn't been so short with her when she'd tried to help him that night. Inwardly, he reminded himself to apologise to her when he got the chance.

"Cynder's late today," Terrador remarked, breaking the silence that had fallen and causing Spyro to jump in surprise.

"Yeah…" the purple dragon mumbled, turning his eyes to the ground.

But no sooner had Terrador spoken did the black dragoness make her appearance. There was a hardened, determined look in her emerald eyes as she approached the earth guardian, and Spyro instantly shrank back at the sight of her. Cynder's gaze turned to him almost instantly, brushing over Flame and Ember coldly, and her eyes narrowed into a glare.

She had wanted to take Hunter's words into consideration, to believe that it had all been a misunderstanding, but just the sight of the purple dragon caused hurt and anger to rise within her once more. She was angry with Spyro, and there was no changing that.

"Good of you to join us, Cynder," Terrador broke the tension with his deep voice, and Cynder turned her glare away from the shaking, purple dragon for a moment.

"Sorry I'm late," she replied, her voice steady but her eyes burning with what could only be anger. "I was held up. Shall we begin?"

She was itching to fight Spyro, to teach him a lesson for hurting her, but Terrador's next words dashed those hopes.

"Of course. As I promised, today we'll be practicing on dummies. There'll be no matches for a few lessons until I decide you're ready."

The earth guardian looked to his four students for any signs of rebellion, but none of them argued. Cynder snorted in annoyance, expelling a tiny amount of shadowy fire from her nostrils, and her eyes narrowed. Terrador's gaze lingered on her for a moment, intrigued by her actions, and glanced sideways at the trembling Spyro. Something was wrong, he could tell. Dismissing that thought, Terrador continued to explain the lesson he had planned for his four pupils.

"Today the puppets will be a little different," the earth guardian stated and waved a large paw.

At this signal, two dummies appeared in a flash of light and hovered limply a few centimetres above the ground. Spyro's eyes widened at the sight of them. Unlike the normal dummies, which were built in the same form as the apes that Malefor had once commanded, these dummies were shaped much differently. Spyro's first thought was that they looked like grublins. But not just any grublins; flying grublins. The thought of them made the purple dragon shudder.

"Today these dummies are airborne," Terrador explained to the awed young dragons. "You will need to work on your airborne fighting skills to bring these puppets down. And also, today you will be working in pairs to bring down your opponents. Spyro and Cynder, you will work together. Flame and Ember, you too. You must combine your skills to destroy these dummies as efficiently as possible. Is that understood?"

Spyro's jaw almost hit the ground. He couldn't think of any worse possible timing for Terrador to spring a partnered training session upon them. How could he even hope to work together with Cynder after what had happened just the other night? He couldn't even look at her, let alone fight beside her. If he wasn't mistaken, the look she was giving him told him that she wanted nothing more than to fight _him_. And Terrador expected them to work together?

"Fine with me," Flame replied nonchalantly. "We'll go first if you want, Ember?"

The pink dragoness hesitated momentarily before nodding quickly. Terrador paused, turning his green eyes on the other two young dragons. Cynder was glaring daggers at Spyro from across the courtyard, and the purple dragon was looking far less than comfortable. Sighing, Terrador could only shake his head.

"Is that okay with you, Spyro, Cynder?" he asked.

Spyro jumped and looked anywhere but at the earth guardian, "I…um…"

"It's fine," Cynder snapped suddenly, an edge to her voice, never tearing her angry gaze away from the purple dragon.

Terrador raised a scaled eyebrow and turned his gaze curiously to Spyro. The purple dragon stared stunned at the black dragoness and his wings drooped in dismay.

"Right…" he mumbled, turning his eyes to the ground.

Exasperated, Terrador shook his head slowly and nodded at the young red dragon, "Alright, Flame, into the ring. You too, Ember."

There was no argument from the red dragon as he led Ember into the centre of the courtyard and waited for Terrador to begin. Spyro sat at the edge of the courtyard, as far away from Cynder as possible, and focused his attention on the two dragons in the centre. Terrador allowed Flame and Ember to ready themselves before he began.

"Ready? Remember to work together," Terrador called, and then dropped his paw. "Begin."

The grublin puppets sprang out of the ground like living shadows, startling and surrounding the two young dragons in seconds. Flame backed up until he was back-to-back with Ember, and called back to her.

"You watch my back, I'll watch yours."

"Right," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

The puppets didn't wait for anybody. Just like the real things, they attacked the young dragons mercilessly, closing in from all sides. Flame managed to push them back with a wave of fire from his maw, but most of them ascended over his elemental wave and escaped unharmed.

Ember took a swipe as one approached her, but hit only air as the puppet dodged swiftly out of the way. She yelped in pain as another struck her shoulder with its painfully-real wooden club. Angrily, Flame spun around and spat fire at the one that had harmed the pink dragoness. But it avoided the attack easily, hovering upwards away from the heat.

"That's it," Flame snarled, tensing the muscles in his legs, "now you've asked for it."

Before Ember could react, the red dragon sprang into the air and proceeded to barrel into the hoard of hovering puppets. Fire licked at his muzzle and broke forth, turning many puppets into ash that rained down upon the stunned, pink dragoness. His eyes shining almost demonically, Flame slashed violently at the hovering dummies and tore them limb from limb before they could try to escape.

Ember didn't even have a chance to assist before Flame disposed of the last one and let its carcass fall to the ground, where it disappeared with a flash of white light. Puffing smoke angrily, Flame descended back to the ground and landed beside Ember.

Terrador considered the two young dragons for a few silent moments before addressing Flame, "I thought I made this clear that this was to be a combined effort. You are to work together with Ember, not take everything on yourself."

Annoyed, Flame whirled on the earth guardian and defended himself angrily, "Well I got rid of them all, didn't I? What's the difference?"

Terrador glowered at the red dragon's defiance, "That's not the point, Flame. You need to learn how to work together with someone, rather than on your own. You and Ember will try that again after Spyro and Cynder show us how it's done."

Flame only grumbled angrily and glared at Spyro before stalking out of the ring with Ember at his heels. Spyro trembled, hesitantly glancing at the expectant Terrador and then at the glaring Cynder. Show them how it's done? Spyro wasn't so sure that this was going to go so well. But there was no arguing with the earth guardian.

"Are you ready?" Terrador questioned, shifting his gaze from Spyro to Cynder.

"Yes," Cynder replied icily and stalked into the ring, not once taking her eyes off Spyro.

The purple dragon only nodded wordlessly and turned a helpless look towards Ember. But she averted her eyes from him guiltily, and Spyro plodded reluctantly into the ring towards the black dragoness. She glowered at him as he approached, and Spyro could almost feel the tension in the air. What could he say to her?

"Well, Spyro?" the way she said his name sent chills though his veins, her angry emerald eyes piercing his scales. "I hope you're ready."

_But if you're not, I don't really care. _That was what her eyes told him, and Spyro cowered in the face of her unspoken anger. He waited tensely for Terrador to call forth the puppets, and almost jumped when he heard the earth guardian's booming signal.

"Begin!"

The puppets appeared so swiftly that Spyro was caught off guard. He'd fought these sorts of creatures before, the real things, but right now his heart and mind weren't really in it. They flew at him with claws and clubs outstretched, and his first instinct was to flee. Swiftly, he leapt out of the way of the charging puppets and scampered around behind them. They met Cynder instead, and she melted one with a spit of acid, missing the others as they hovered out of the way.

Slightly ashamed that he hadn't fought them himself, Spyro leapt daringly at the hideous dummies and prepared to grab one in his claws. But it dodged quickly out of the way and Spyro tumbled ungracefully onto the cobblestones instead.

As he picked himself up, Spyro could have sworn he heard Flame snickering. But he chose to ignore the red dragon and turned his attention back to the dummies, breathing ice in an attempt to freeze them. One fell to the ground, covered in shards of ice that stopped it from flying, but the others hovered further up out of the way.

Cynder took to the air at that point, twisting gracefully into a spiralling roll and barrelling like an arrow into the nearest dummy. It dropped out of the sky, ripped nearly in two by the impact. Spyro watched from the ground as Cynder's shadow flame suffocated several of the puppets, and she dodged out of the way as they attempted to counterattack.

The purple dragon took to the air, determined to help her, but a missed strike sent him tumbling into the black dragoness instead. The two young dragons dropped out of the sky and landed in a heap on the ground as the last few puppets descended towards them. Spyro staggered upright, and was suddenly pushed viciously back as Cynder lurched to her feet.

"What is your problem?" she snapped furiously, slapping him away.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, dodging her claws. "It was an accident!"

Cynder merely snorted and glared daggers at him before spinning around and spitting a large glob of venom at the dummy that had been sneaking up behind her. Spyro shuddered, glad that it hadn't been him on the receiving end. He gasped in pain as another dummy's wooden club collided with the side of his head and sent him reeling to the ground. He staggered upright and watched in horror as it descended upon the oblivious Cynder, who was too focused on those in front of her.

Digging his claws into the ground, Spyro propelled himself forwards and crashed into the black dragoness, successfully knocking her out of the way of the puppet's attack.

The purple dragon staggered upright once more and finished off the last dummy with a ball of fire, only to feel something heavy collide with his head. Spyro staggered and turned around in surprise to see Cynder standing behind him, her eyes burning with fury.

"Stop interfering!" she shrieked, and Spyro gasped in pain as her claws glanced across his shoulder. "I don't need your help!"

Startled, Spyro staggered back and stared in horror at her furious glare, "Cynder, I…"

"Get away from me!" Cynder's shriek cut the air, startling everyone in the vicinity, and she swung her tail around so violently that, when it struck Spyro across the face, it sent him tumbling to the ground.

The purple dragon slid along the cobblestones and lay stunned for a moment, hardly able to believe what had just happened. Terrador, Ember and Flame all stared with identical expressions of shock on their faces as Cynder glared furiously at Spyro. Her eyes burned with hatred as she turned and stalked away from the purple dragon. Spyro raised his head groggily in time to see her walk away, her head held high.

"Cynder," he croaked and shook his head to clear it, "Cynder, wait…"

But the black dragoness gave him no heed as she stalked out of the courtyard and disappeared around the corner. Terrador didn't even bother trying to call her back. A stunned silence fell in the courtyard as Flame raised a curious eyebrow and Ember stared guiltily at the purple dragon.

Spyro pushed himself shakily to his feet with a wince of pain, and limped dejectedly to the edge of the ring. The earth guardian stared at him for a moment, pondering whether or not to say anything, but chose to act as though nothing had happened.

"Flame, Ember, ready to try again?" Terrador asked.

Flame shrugged, "Guess so. Ember?"

The pink dragoness blinked, her gaze on Spyro as he sat dejectedly at the edge of the courtyard. Flame nudged her, catching her attention.

"Oh," she sighed, and nodded.

Only when the two young dragons were busy fighting puppets again did Terrador address Spyro. He lowered his head to speak quietly to the purple dragon, keeping one eye on the battle in the middle of the courtyard.

"Spyro, is there something I should know about?" he asked carefully. "Is there something going on between you and Cynder?"

Spyro hesitated barely a moment before answering. He had to tell someone and Terrador needed to know, especially if it was going to interfere with training.

"I've…I've done something stupid," the purple dragon admitted, bowing his head, "and I don't know if Cynder will forgive me. I upset her…hurt her…and I don't know what to do to make it right again…"

Terrador was silent as he considered Spyro's words. The only sounds were those of Flame's angry growls and the crackling of fire as it ate at the unfortunate puppets. The earth guardian nodded in approval as the two young dragons trapped one dummy and destroyed it together. He turned his gaze briefly to Spyro again.

"Spyro, I'm sure that whatever it is that you have done, Cynder will forgive you," he reassured the purple dragon. "If you have upset her, you should apologise. You cannot flee from your guilt. Face her and apologise to her, and she will forgive you."

With that said, Terrador turned his full attention back to the training match. Spyro sighed and shook his head, staring desolately at his paws as he thought about the earth guardian's words.

"I hope so," he mumbled, but no one heard him, "I hope she'll forgive me."

"Much better, Flame!" Terrador called as the last puppet was destroyed, "And you, too, Ember! That was an excellent display of teamwork! Well done, the both of you. Keep working on that teamwork, and we'll try again next training session. For now, I think you've done enough. I have some business to attend to, so we'll leave it at that. Good work, young dragons."

He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving the three young dragons standing alone in the courtyard. Ember hesitated before approaching Spyro, guilt still weighing heavily on her heart.

"Listen, Spyro…" she murmured, and he raised his head to look at her, "I'm sorry…I know you don't really want my help but…I can talk to Cynder…I can tell her what really happened…"

"It's alright, Ember," Spyro held up a paw, silencing her, "I'll talk to her myself. It's my fault, anyway. Thank you, though, and…sorry for being so short with you. I was upset, but I shouldn't have treated you that way."

Whilst this conversation was going on, Flame was currently thinking of very different things. It had happened just like he'd hoped. Terrador had left them alone in the courtyard, no one around to stop them, and Spyro was right where he wanted him. This was the perfect moment, the moment he'd been waiting for, the time to exact his revenge on the purple dragon. And the necklet currently nestled around his neck was going to help him do that.

"Spyro," he called, jauntily striding towards the purple dragon, "I've got a proposition for you."

Spyro and Ember turned in surprise and the purple dragon blinked in confusion, "Proposition?"

A grin wormed its way onto Flame's face, "Right. A rematch. You and me, right here, right now. What do you say?"

Surprised, Spyro stared at the grinning red dragon for a moment before snorting smoke, "No thanks."

Annoyance flashed in Flame's golden eyes, "Come on, Spyro, don't chicken out on me. I've been itching for a rematch since we first met. You're not afraid are you?"

Spyro shot him an annoyed look, "Look, I don't want to fight you. Go find something else to do."

He turned to walk away, but Flame leapt over him to block his way, his golden eyes flashing. Spyro halted and glared at the red dragon, whilst Ember stood off to the side with a confused look on her face.

"Why? Are you afraid?" Flame provoked, still grinning, revealing his sharp teeth.

"Why would I be afraid?" Spyro snorted and pushed past the red dragon. "I just don't see the point."

"Don't you want to know who's the strongest?" Flame jeered, his grin slipping as anger rose within him.

"Why should I care?" Spyro replied, shooting a glare back at the red dragon. "I'm not fighting you."

Anger bubbled in Flame's gut in the face of Spyro's deadpan refusal to fight. He felt his scales burn hot like the fire he controlled, and suddenly he felt that strange feeling in his head again. The world was glowing red, as though even the sky was on fire, and Flame felt the strongest urge he'd ever felt to fight. Something was ordering him to fight, to attack the purple dragon, and Flame couldn't even begin to struggle against this urge.

Spyro gasped in surprise as something hard connected with his backside, sending him sprawling ungainly onto the cobblestones. Wincing, the purple dragon pushed himself upright and whirled around. Flame was facing him, his teeth bared in a snarl and a look of pure fury burning in his golden eyes.

"Coward," the red dragon snapped. "You _will_ fight me!"

"What?" Spyro growled, confused by Flame's sudden change in demeanour.

"I said, fight me!" Flame roared, and Spyro roared in shock as the red dragon's horns connected with his chest.

He was tossed onto the cobblestones again, his body bouncing as the wind was forced from his lungs. Spyro raised his body from the ground, glaring at the red dragon as he prepared to attack again.

"I said I'm not going to fight you!" the purple dragon yelled back, only to be tossed to the ground again as Flame rammed his side.

Ember gave a squeak of shock as Spyro's body tumbled onto the ground and lay still. Her blue eyes turned in horror to Flame as he stalked towards the purple dragon again, his teeth bared. The purple dragon pushed himself upright once more, limping slightly as blood trickled from a cut on his thigh.

"Stop this, Flame," Spyro ordered, breathing heavily, "I won't fight you."

"You will!" Flame replied viciously, throwing his whole body at the purple dragon.

The two young dragons tumbled over each other, biting and clawing like vicious animals as they each attempted to gain the advantage. Vaguely, Spyro could hear Ember screaming at them to stop, and at last he managed to get a foothold against Flame's underbelly. He kicked the red dragon off and rolled away, wincing at the multiple cuts he'd received. Flame had staggered to his feet, and charged at the purple dragon once more.

"Fight!" he roared as Spyro skidded out of the way.

"I won't!" the purple dragon roared back, and was forced to roll to the side as fire spewed from Flame's jaws.

"Coward, you're afraid!" Flame accused, dashing forward and catching Spyro in the chest with his golden horns.

Spyro gasped in agony as the sharp tips of Flame's horns pierced the scales of his chest and pushed him over backwards onto the cobblestones. He rolled sideways in the knick of time to avoid being crushed as Flame pounced at him. The red dragon twisted sharply and caught Spyro beneath the jaw with one of his horns, knocking his head back. The purple dragon staggered and tasted blood in his mouth. It was then he realised that he didn't have a choice. It was fight or be beaten.

"If it's a fight you want," Spyro snarled and multiple particles of ice streamed from between his teeth, "then it's a fight you'll get!"

Flame dodged the wave of ice, negating some of it with his own fire breath as he screamed, "Finally!"

Ember screamed as the two dragons rose up on their hind legs and met each other with snapping jaws and slashing claws. She dashed forwards to help, but was forced to jump out of the way as Flame tossed Spyro to the ground once more. The pink dragoness leapt over the purple dragon as she attempted to approach her childhood friend.

"Flame! Stop this, please!" she begged, only to be slapped away by a vicious swipe from the red dragon.

"Get out of the way!" he snapped, and Ember stumbled backwards as his claws glanced across the scales of her muzzle.

Tears sprang into her eyes at the pain and she took shelter beneath a nearby tree as Spyro leapt on Flame again. Something was terribly wrong. Flame had never struck her before. Never. The pink dragoness couldn't understand what was going through his head, and could only watch as the fight escalated.

Spyro roared in pain as Flame's teeth fastened around the back of his neck, biting down hard and piercing his scales. The purple dragon struggled to escape the painful grip, wincing as he felt blood begin to roll in rivulets down his neck. A great roar of anger and agony ripped itself from his throat as he tossed his body backwards, trapping Flame beneath him with enough force to make the red dragon loosen his hold.

Panting heavily, Spyro scrambled away from the red dragon just in time to avoid the retaliating swipe as his opponent lurched to his feet. A scream of pain ripped from his jaws as he felt hot fire sweep over his body, scorching his purple scales and making his blood boil. The fire died away at last and Spyro collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath as his scorched scales continued to smoke. He barely had a chance to recover before Flame's claws pierced his shoulders and tore long gashes down his legs. With a loud screech, Spyro made his pain known to the world and lurched upwards.

His forehead collided with Flame's chin, knocking the red dragon backwards and causing him to bite his own tongue. Blood trickled down Flame's chin as he glowered furiously at his panting opponent. Spyro backed up, panic beginning to rise within him. Something was wrong. Flame had never been this vicious before. Sure, they'd had their disputes and they'd fought before, but never like this. This time, it was as though Flame was fighting to kill.

"Stop it!" Ember cried from the sidelines, beads of blood glimmering on the tip of her nose where Flame had scratched her.

"Stay back!" Spyro yelled, stopping her in her tracks as she attempted to intervene again. There was something wrong with Flame, and Spyro didn't want Ember getting involved in something this dangerous.

"Pay attention!" Flame snarled, catching Spyro off guard and tossing him across the courtyard with a vicious jerk of his horns.

Spyro landed heavily and lay stunned, trying to regain his breath before Flame came at him again. He pushed his aching body to his feet and gritted his teeth. It was time to get serious. Closing his eyes, Spyro relaxed his mind and focused on the sounds around him. He could hear the tap-tapping of Flame's claws as the red dragon stalked towards him, and the whimpers as Ember watched the proceedings fearfully. He could hear the wind as it curled around him, cooling his burned scales and causing his many injuries to sting. His attention focused on Flame and he waited until the red dragon was right where he wanted him before snapping his eyes open.

Flame's golden eyes opened wide in shock as a pillar of earth shot from beneath him and pummelled straight into his gut, sending him tumbling head over heels into the air. He landed painfully, gasping for breath, and had barely raised his head before excruciating pain ripped through his body.

Spyro's electricity breath coursed through his veins, as painful as a thousand knives stabbing into his flesh, and his screams rent the air. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had come and Flame opened his eyes again, pained, to see Spyro limp towards him.

"No more, Flame," the purple dragon ordered, his eyes deadly serious. "That's enough."

Had it been Flame who was in control, the red dragon may have given up there and then. But his mind was not his own, and he thought of nothing but the urge to kill the purple dragon. Ember screamed as she watched Flame pummel straight into Spyro, sending the purple dragon crashing into the wall of the nearest building with enough force to crack the stone.

Spyro groaned and was still, lying limp against the stone wall with a sizable dent in the stone above him. Flame stood a few metres from him, breathing heavily, and a mad grin worked its way onto his face.

"Not yet, Spyro," he hissed, spreading his wings wide and beginning to flap them. "My turn."

The red dragon rose slowly into the air, his mouth opening a crack as crimson fire began to burn deep within his throat. Spyro opened his eyes groggily, barely able to move, and his gaze was drawn to the rising, red dragon. Flame's eyes were glowing like fire itself, and there was a crimson ball of flame growing between his jaws.

Horrified, Spyro realised what the red dragon was doing. He could only imagine the amount of power that fireball would hold once Flame fired it. Spyro had to get out of the way. But he could barely move at all, his body crying out in protest as he attempted to rise to his feet.

Flame's eyes stared down into his, glowing triumphantly with a single thought: '_It's over._'

The heat of the fireball had grown to such that Spyro could feel it from where he lay, and he was sure Ember could feel it too. She was gazing horrified up at her childhood friend, barely able to believe what she was seeing, and rooted to the ground in fear. The purple dragon could only close his eyes tight and hope for the best as Flame roared and the fireball was released. It shot towards him like a meteor, burning with a flame hot enough to rival the Belt of Fire, unstoppable as it shot towards its target.

Through the roar of the approaching fireball, Spyro heard only one thing: the scream of a pink dragoness as she yelled his name.

"SPYRO!"

**A/N: I am so, so sorry for taking so long to update! Not to mention leaving you with a nasty cliffhanger. Please don't kill me. I was busy...with school. -.- I'm not really fond of this chapter, it felt a bit rushed to me. But I hope you enjoyed it none the less. Sorry about all this Spyro/Cynder angst...It's not what I'm used to writing and probably not what you want to read (or maybe you do, I don't know). I'd much rather write action scenes, myself. **

**Unfortunately, school is getting rather hectic. So, as much as it pains me, I'm going to have to ask you to expect slow updates. :( Thank you so much all of my reviewers, you make me feel very special. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this (late) chapter.**


	18. Ember's Sacrifice

**18. Ember's Sacrifice**

"What do you mean there was no sign of them?"

The two scout dragons cowered in the face of the earth guardian's anger. They'd returned barely minutes ago, with hardly anything to report. The one thing they could report was not what Terrador wanted to hear at all.

"We searched everywhere, but there was absolutely no sign of any grublins," the first scout dragon mumbled timidly.

"We didn't see a single one. It's as though they've disappeared off the face of the earth since Master Spyro last fought them," his companion added, equally as timid.

Sighing, Terrador shook his head slowly and turned his gaze towards the horizon. They were standing on the battlements, above the city, and could see far into the distance to where a shadowy mountain range could only just be seen. The earth guardian pondered this news silently as the scout dragons waited timidly for him to speak.

"You found nothing?" Terrador asked at last, his anger abating.

"Nothing," the scouts replied together, "except the old camp site that Spyro fought them at. There was no sign of recent activity there, however, and no tracks to lead us anywhere. Nothing."

'_Where could they be hiding?_' Terrador wondered before turning his green eyes on the two scouts.

"Very well," he sighed, defeated, "you may go."

With swift, respectful bows, the two scout dragons left Terrador alone on the battlements to ponder this news. But the earth guardian had barely turned his eyes back to the horizon when his thoughts were interrupted by a piercing roar of pain that cut through the air like a knife. Shocked, Terrador jerked his head towards the place the noise had come from: the western courtyard. He had left Flame and Spyro alone there.

"Spyro!" The earth guardian hissed, his eyes widening in alarm, and instantly he leapt off the wall and shot towards the courtyard.

Terrador wasn't the only one to hear that shriek. It swept over the normally quiet city, alerting almost every dragon and mole within the walls and guiding them towards the fight in the western courtyard.

* * *

Spyro felt the heat of the fire intensify as it neared his injured body, scorching his scales even at a distance. His body refused to move and he lay trembling, closing his eyes against the fireball that threatened to end everything. He heard a screech from afar, a female dragon, and remembered that Ember was still in the vicinity.

As his muscles seized up in fear, the purple dragon was sure he heard his name called over the roar of the approaching meteor. But what he didn't hear was the sound of running footsteps, or the shriek as another dragon leapt towards him. All he heard was the roar of the fireball as he waited for it to strike.

But that strike never hit him. He felt the heat intensify to such that he thought his scales would melt, but the fireball never struck his body. He heard a sickening thud accompanied by a scream cut swiftly in half, and gasped in shock and pain as something much softer than he expected was propelled painfully into his gut.

The force pushed him against the wall, causing his head to snap back and strike painfully against the stone, before he collapsed limp again on the ground. For a moment he lay still, eyes screwed shut as the heat from the fire dissipated, noticing the feel of something warm and soft pressed against his chest.

What had happened? Had the fireball hit him? It didn't feel like it. It felt as though he'd been hit by something much more solid, something softer and cooler than fire. And he was alive. Injured, but alive. Spyro's lilac eyes slid hesitantly open. He blinked a few times to clear his vision of unshed tears of pain, before his gaze dropped to the thing that had struck him.

The first thing he saw was pink scales, covered with ash and rubble from the wall that had cracked upon impact. Slowly, Spyro realised what he was seeing and his eyes widened in pure horror.

"E-Ember!" he choked, barely able to speak as his bruised chest ached painfully.

The pink dragoness lay on her side, her back pressed against Spyro's chest and her wings draped limply across the ground. Her head lay heavy on the cobblestones, her mouth open a crack and her blue eyes hidden behind pink eyelids. But Spyro's eyes were drawn to her chest and midriff, which were still smoking from the impact with the fireball.

The golden scales of her chest and underbelly were scorched, blistered and bleeding, charred black by fire. Her throat and forelegs had not escaped either, the once pink scales charred black and blistered. The centre of her chest had been hit the hardest, taking the full brunt of a solid ball of flame, and Spyro felt sick at the sight of the gaping hole in her charred scales.

"Ember!" he tried again, his voice reaching a desperate pitch, and he coughed on the ash that entered his throat.

But the pink dragoness made no answer. She lay limp and unmoving, a trickle of blood leaking from her open mouth to stain the cobblestones. Spyro began to shake uncontrollably, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. He wanted to scream Ember's name, to yell at her to get up, but the words wouldn't leave his throat. He could only stare wordlessly at her body, his aching body shaking violently and his eyes filled with horror and disbelief.

"Em…ber…?" a soft, confused voice brought Spyro out of his horrified stupor and he turned his gaze swiftly towards the red dragon.

Flame had descended back to the ground, the look of pure murder now gone from his eyes as he gazed stunned at the limp body of the pink dragoness. He took a hesitant step forward, disbelief shining in his golden eyes, and Spyro suddenly felt anger rise in his chest. Ember had taken the strike for him, the strike that was meant to kill him, and the creature responsible for this was standing right before him. Spyro's body protested painfully as he pushed himself shakily to his feet, his eyes burning with fury.

"Ember!" Flame's shriek cut the air suddenly, horrified and terrified, full of desperation.

He made to run towards the body of his friend, but Spyro stepped over her and took his stance in front of her. Flame skidded to a halt, his golden eyes widening at the sight of the vicious anger on Spyro's normally calm visage. Fury radiated off the purple dragon in waves, and Flame was sure that his scales were darkening as though suddenly cloaked by shadows.

"Get out."

Flame had never heard Spyro speak like that before. His voice was filled with daggers, as cold as ice, more menacing than Flame could ever have expected from the usually calm purple dragon. He took a hesitant step back, his confusion and fear for Ember overpowering his usual stubborn demeanour.

"E-Ember," he whimpered. "What have I…? What did I…?"

"I said _get out_!" Spyro roared, his chilling voice cutting the air viciously, causing Flame to stumble backwards.

Neither of the two dragons seemed to have noticed that a huge crowd had gathered around the courtyard, dragons craning their heads to look at the scene. Many had seen Ember take the hit for Spyro, but the sight had left them stunned and speechless, unable to intervene. Terrador had pushed his way to the front, but the sight of Ember lying motionless on the ground had left even him in a state of frozen shock.

It was Spyro's angry roar that brought them all out of their stupor as his scales darkened almost to black.

"Spyro!" Terrador called suddenly, taking a few steps forward, but the purple dragon didn't heed him.

"You!" Spyro roared, his eyes burning white as he glared at the stunned Flame. "Look what you've _done_!"

"I-I...I didn't mean…I never meant…!" Flame stuttered, stepping backwards swiftly, his horror-filled eyes fixed on Spyro.

Naxos, Delos and Chios had pushed their way to the head of the crowd and, at Spyro's words, their gazes all turned to the limp body of the pink dragoness. Naxos's eyes widened, and Delos hissed sharply at the sight.

"Ember…" the two male dragons whispered together, and Chios could only whimper in horror.

"Look what you've done to _her_!" Spyro's roar echoed throughout the city, causing many of the onlookers to cringe.

"Flame, you…" Delos trembled with rage as he turned his eyes on the younger red dragon. "You…did this?"

"I didn't mean to!" Flame cried, his voice climbing a few octaves in desperation.

But his words meant nothing to the furious dragons in the crowd. They had seen it all, and in their eyes Flame was a criminal. Spyro stalked forwards, his teeth bared in a horrid snarl, his whole body shaking with rage. But he didn't reach Flame before the crowd began to close in.

"Flame!" Naxos yelled, angry tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "What is the meaning of this?"

"How could you?" Chios added, tears rolling down her muzzle, her voice hushed and accusing.

Flame backed away from the approaching crowd, trembling as they began to yell at him. Their anger, their disbelief that one of their own could perform such an act, they poured it all out to the young red dragon and Terrador didn't even try to stop them. Spyro stood unmoving in the centre of the furious crowd, his eyes glowing white and his scales covered in shadows as he stared accusingly at Flame.

"Get out," Spyro ordered, once more, his voice cold and calm in the midst of the angry yells from the crowd.

At last, Flame could take it no more. With an anguished yowl, the red dragon spun away from the crowd and took flight, spreading his golden wings and fleeing into the sky. He flew as fast as he could, tears flying from his eyes, his breath coming in short bursts as he strained his wings to their limit.

The yells of the crowd followed him as he flew over the buildings, and he attempted in vain to block them out. Nor could he block out the echoing memory of Spyro's cold voice or the image of Ember lying limp upon the cobblestones. Without a second thought, Flame soared away from the city and towards the horizon, not even caring where he was going. All that mattered was that he left Warfang far behind.

As the red dragon disappeared into the distance, the angry yells of the crowd faded too and they fell into awkward silence, unsure what to say. Gazes turned to the limp body of the pink dragoness behind them, but soon their attention was drawn to the purple dragon. Only, he wasn't purple anymore.

His scales were as dark as shadows and his eyes glowed like white fire, full of a fury that caused many dragons to back away from him. He was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth as though struggling against his own anger. Warily, Terrador approached the young dragon.

"Spyro…" he murmured, his voice gruff and yet soothing.

But Spyro didn't even look at him. His furious white eyes were fixed on the skies into which Flame had disappeared, and there was a dark aura forming around his shadowy scales. The earth guardian felt a foreboding feeling deep within his gut as he gazed upon the normally purple dragon. Something told him that, in this state, Spyro's mind was far beyond his reach.

"What's wrong with Spyro?" Naxos muttered quietly, speaking mostly to Delos. But the red dragon could only shrug and stare intrigued as the purple dragon's scales swam with shadows.

Hunter was currently racing towards the western courtyard, Cynder hard on his tail and Sparx hovering ahead. The three of them had been in the main gardens together when they'd heard the commotion at the western courtyard. Unsure what was going on, they'd sat there and watched as dragons and moles rushed madly towards the source of the commotion. Only when Spyro's furious roar of 'get out!' had reached their ears did they rush towards the courtyard.

Cynder could see nothing beyond the crowd when they arrived at the courtyard, but she quickly pushed her way through with Hunter's help, determined to reach the purple dragon. When she saw the scene laid out before her, the black dragoness felt a chill run down her spine. Ember lay at one side of the courtyard, a hideous wound covering her chest and forelegs. Not far from her stood Spyro, standing with his head raised to the sky, his normally purple scales covered with shadows. Only twice had Cynder ever seen Spyro look like this, and the very sight of it made her tremble with fear.

Sparx had frozen at the sight of the purple dragon, whose scales were as dark as night. He, too, remembered the one time he had seen Spyro in this state. The memory still made him shiver with fear. But Hunter, who had never seen the purple dragon in this state before, was merely intrigued and unaware of the darkness that lingered in Spyro's mind.

"Spyro…?" Cynder's voice was soft, timid and unsure, but every gaze turned to her when she spoke.

His pupil-less white eyes turned to her, and she felt her blood run cold as she gazed into their emptiness. She could feel his anger from where she stood, and see the darkness that was manifesting around him, and it filled her heart with fear. The dragons around her had backed away, fearing the cold fury of the shadowy, white-eyed dragon.

"Spyro," Cynder tried again, pleadingly, "I know you can hear me. Please, Spyro, don't do this."

He faltered, the glowing of his eyes abating slightly and the shadows around him diminishing. Sparx hovered forwards hesitantly, but stopped as though frozen when Spyro's white-eyed glare snapped towards him.

"Easy, buddy," the dragonfly held up his hands, his voice trembling. "It's me, Sparx, remember?"

Spyro hesitated, the darkness slipping from his mind, and he heard Cynder's pleading voice yet again.

"Come back to us, Spyro," the black dragoness begged, quivering with fear.

As though a veil of shadows had just been lifted, Spyro's scales returned to their usual violet shade and the white glow of his eyes faded completely to reveal his normal lilac irises. His gaze was fixed on Cynder, pained and apologetic, and he could only whisper her name.

"Cynder…"

No sooner had the word left his mouth did his injured body give way, and the purple dragon collapsed onto his side. The crowd gasped at the sight, and Cynder's eyes filled with alarm as she cried out his name. But Terrador reached him before she did, the earth guardian kneeling down towards the injured purple dragon. Spyro lifted his head weakly and turned his gaze on Terrador.

"Ember," he pleaded, his voice full of desperation, "Help her…"

But Naxos and Delos had already rushed towards the limp body of the pink dragoness, and Spyro gazed desperately towards them. The yellow dragon crouched down and laid his head across Ember's body, listening for any signs of life. At last he looked up, his eyes shining with relief and proclaimed to the anxious crowd, "She's breathing!"

Spyro breathed a heavy sigh of relief, but the worry wasn't gone from his expression as he laid his head back on the cobblestones. Terrador sprang into action without a second thought.

"Naxos, take her to the infirmary immediately!" the earth guardian ordered. "The rest of you, go back to whatever you were doing beforehand, we have this under control! Cyril, Volteer, Thasos, I'll leave them to you."

The other three guardians, who had been standing amongst the crowd, now began to shepherd the rest of the dragons away with calm orders of 'move along' and 'off you go, now.' Naxos had hoisted Ember's body onto his back with a little help from Delos, being as gentle as he could with the young dragoness. Terrador turned his gaze back to the purple dragon at his feet and noticed that he was now attempting in vain to get up.

"Can you walk, Spyro?" Terrador asked gently, leaning low to the purple dragon's level.

The purple dragon gazed apologetically up at the large earth guardian, and shook his head. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and the deep gashes down his forelegs were bleeding profusely. Add to that the painful bite mark on the back of his neck and what felt like a few broken ribs, and Spyro wasn't sure he could even get up let alone walk. Terrador smiled reassuringly and crouched as low to the ground as he could, spreading his wing out like a ramp.

"Get on," he told the surprised young dragon, "I'll carry you."

Gratefully, Spyro managed to haul his aching body onto Terrador's back, with a little help from the earth guardian's wing, and he lay draped across the larger dragon's shoulders. After making sure that the purple dragon was secure, Terrador plodded after Naxos and Delos, who were already hurrying towards the infirmary. Cynder watched helplessly as Spyro was carried away by the earth guardian, and noticed that Sparx was already following them. The black dragoness hesitated, gazing after them, until she felt a warm paw descend on her shoulder.

Hunter gazed down at her, his eyes kind, "You should go with him. I can tell you are worried."

Cynder looked up at him, and the cheetah could see the makings of guilt and remorse shining in her emerald eyes. He knew what she was thinking.

"I feel so stupid," she admitted softly, turning her eyes to gaze after Terrador, "I can't even feel anger towards him anymore. After…seeing him like that…"

Unnoticed tears began to work their way down her cheeks and Hunter knelt at her side as the crowd slowly wandered away and left them alone in the courtyard. Cynder shook her head roughly, sending tears flying as she bowed her head in shame.

"I was angry at him for something so trivial…" she whispered, "and I wasn't there to help him when he needed me! I let him get hurt because of my own selfishness!"

Hunter took her face gently in his paws, wiping her tears away, "That isn't true, Cynder. You were there to bring him out of the darkness, weren't you?"

Cynder stared at him, "But he wouldn't have even been in that state if I had been there to help him! But I wasn't even there to see what happened…"

"It wasn't your fault, Cynder," Hunter reassured her gently, "You mustn't blame yourself for the actions of another. You were hurting and you were angry with Spyro, but now it's time to patch things up. Go on. Go to him."

The black dragoness hesitated, gazing first at Hunter and then looking in the direction that Terrador had gone with Spyro. She glanced back at Hunter pleadingly, almost as though she was asking for his permission.

"He needs you," the cheetah insisted, giving her a whiskery smile.

Sniffling, Cynder returned a smile and nodded, "Thank you, Hunter."

Dashing her tears away with a paw, she turned to canter after the earth guardian and Spyro, leaving the cheetah standing alone in the courtyard. He watched her go, folding his golden-furred arms against his chest, the ghost of a grateful smile lingering on his face.

"Any time, Cynder. Any time."

* * *

Loose pebbles that littered the cavern floor were sent tumbling across the rocks as a grey paw slammed violently into the ground. Alta's ice-blue eyes glared furiously at his own paw as his body quivered with anger, his teeth grinding together. With a howl of frustration, he swept his claws violently across the cavern floor and sent those loose chips of rock flying across the cavern.

"I lost it!" Alta roared, his angry voice echoing around the cavern, "I lost control of him! And I was so _close_! If it hadn't been for that meddling pink dragoness…!"

His claws curled inwards as he clenched his paws, scraping against the stone floor and leaving white claw-marks etched into the rock. Snorting, Alta closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm his angry nerves. Losing his temper would achieve nothing.

"Well, at least she's out of the way now," he muttered, allowing a wry smirk to cross his face, "She won't be meddling in my plans again. But, she's done enough damage as it is…"

Alta stood up calmly and began to pace, backwards and forwards over the pattern he'd painted on the floor of the cavern. He was alone here, not even a bug to keep him company in this cavern of stone. But he liked the silence, and loneliness was never a bother to him.

"I can't even sense Flame's mind," the grey dragon mused quietly. "It's as though his own emotions broke the hold of the necklet, stopping me from penetrating his mind."

Alta paused in his pacing for a few moments to glare in annoyance at the painted stone beneath his paws. Red ochre stained the rocks, swirling in intricate patterns, the colour of old dried blood. His blue eyes narrowed.

"I thought I'd weakened his mind," he muttered, scraping a single claw over the stone. "I _had _weakened his mind. How else could I have forced him to kill the purple dragon? _Attempt _to kill him… But he failed, thanks to that foolish pink dragoness. And now…"

Alta turned his gaze towards the tunnel that led upwards towards the surface world, "…he's blocked me from his mind. In his own despair, he's managed to unknowingly block me from his mind. I suppose he's stronger than I thought."

Silently, the grey dragon resumed his pacing and quietly pondered a solution to his problem. Alta knew what he had to do: he had to regain control of Flame's mind. But first he needed to locate the red dragon. Expelling a sigh, Alta halted his pacing once more and bowed his head, closing his icy eyes and concentrating.

At first he felt nothing, saw nothing, as though the mind he probed for was far beyond his reach. But suddenly he felt it; a tug on his consciousness, like an annoying constant pull against his mind. The necklet was responding.

A smile flickered onto Alta's face, a grin of triumph as he located the source of the pull. The necklet was coming closer, it seemed, towards him. No doubt Flame was fleeing Warfang. And now, thanks to the necklet, Alta knew exactly where he was. It didn't take the grey dragon long to make up his mind. He already knew his next course of action.

"Well, I think it's time I paid a much belated visit," Alta purred, padding slowly towards the tunnel, "to the surface."

* * *

It didn't occur to Flame to even think about where he might be going. He flew haphazardly, as fast as he could, away from the city and the memory of Ember lying as though dead upon the cobblestones. The wind battered his wings, causing him to swerve and sway and almost plummet to the earth below, but never did he stop. A force, of desperation perhaps, or guilt, forced his body onwards towards the distant horizon and away from the cold voice that still rang in his mind.

'_Get out!'_

The red dragon shook his head roughly, dropping a few feet in the air, sending tears flying from his tightly closed eyes, thrown away like the memories he wished to discard. But Spyro's voice wouldn't leave his head, nor would the image of the purple dragon's cold, white eyes and shadow-covered scales. Sobs escaped his throat, sounding more like short gasps of breath than tearful cries. He had to get away, far away, escape the memories and the guilt that plagued his reeling mind. He didn't even notice when the wind carried him high above the dam, or pay attention as the ground beneath him was replaced by a large stretch of water.

More than halfway across the lake, Flame's eyes zoned in on the line of trees on the horizon. Not entirely aware of exactly where he was, the red dragon aimed for the trees and strained to fly faster. The wind buffeted his body to the side and then back again, whipping his scales and causing his wings to jerk in awkward directions. More sobs escaped his lips and he dove uncoordinatedly down towards the forest-covered land. He didn't even think to slow down, and was stopped only when his wings struck the leaves of a tree and sent him spiralling out of control.

With a yelp of pain that mingled with a violent sob, Flame crashed heavily into the ground, his shoulder taking the full brunt of the impact. Clumps of dirt and grass were sent flying as the red dragon skidded to an ungraceful stop, his muzzle half buried beneath loose dirt and his wings splayed at awkward angles across the ground. His legs were folded beneath his shaking body, painfully pressed into the ground, and he slowly rolled onto his side to relieve them.

For a few moments he lay there, aching, his body wracked with dry sobs and covered with dirt. His strength had ebbed, robbed away by his own emotions and debilitating guilt.

Ember.

The pink dragoness that always faced him with a smile on her face, and put up with him during his stubborn moments. He'd hurt her; or worse. Flame didn't want to think about that. But the thoughts invaded his mind nonetheless, plaguing him with anxieties and fears that only made his guilt worse.

Whimpering, Flame begged the thoughts to leave him be, voicing his begs aloud for only the wind to hear. But it made no difference, his heart ached no less, and he lay upon unfamiliar ground to lament his own foolish mistakes. Not even a thought was spared for the necklet that remained secure and forgotten around the red dragon's throat.

So detached was Flame from the world, that he didn't even hear the beating of wings as another being approached from the sky. Unnoticed, another dragon appeared from above the trees and hovered gently down to land behind the prostrate red dragon. But not even the sound of the grains of dirt crunching beneath the paws of the new arrival could gain Flame's attention.

"You make me come all the way out here and you're not even going to acknowledge me?" said a voice, filled with mock hurt. "I'm rather hurt, Flame."

Startled, Flame hoisted his body into a sitting position as fast as he could, turning his head so quickly he almost cricked his neck. A grey dragon stood before him, a cocky and almost amused look in his baby-blue eyes as he gazed upon the red dragon. Though he'd only met him once, and briefly, Flame recognised him instantly.

"A-Alta!" He yelped, and heard his own voice hitch on the dry sobs that still wracked his body. He blinked furiously, hoping that no tears were visible on his countenance.

An odd smile flickered onto the grey dragon's lips and he cocked his head to the side, "Well, at least you remember who I am. That's something."

Flame gaped at him for a few moments, his jaw hanging slack as his mind searched for words to say. Alta seemed amused by his stunned silence, and stood without saying anything as he waited for the red dragon to speak.

"B-But, why are you here?" Flame managed to stutter at last, bewildered. "How did you…?"

"You called me," Alta replied swiftly, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, "I came."

At this, Flame only looked even more stumped, his expression becoming more and more bewildered by the second.

"Called you?" Flame stared stupidly at the grey dragon. "How?"

Alta's short, sharp laugh startled Flame, and he almost fell backwards when the grey dragon stretched out a claw towards his neck. But all he did was tap it sharply against the invisible, smooth surface of the necklet, his blue eyes glinting knowingly.

"Did you forget?" He asked, half-amused, half-exasperated.

Blinking slowly, his expression still stunned, Flame raised a hesitant paw to his neck. Instantly, the surface of the necklet glimmered and returned to its regular hue of transparent gold. It felt oddly warm beneath his paw, perhaps having absorbed Flame's own body heat. His raised his confused, golden eyes to face Alta again.

"This?" he asked.

Alta cocked a grin, "As long as you wear that, we're connected. You called out for help and I heard it. So I came."

It didn't cross Flame's mind that Alta could be lying. He merely stared in awe from the necklet to the unnerving, blue eyes of the grey dragon and back again.

"I didn't know it could do that," he admitted, unsure how he felt about having a 'connection' to this dragon he barely knew.

Alta shrugged indifferently and changed the subject, "Why were you calling out? Has something happened?"

Of course, the grey dragon knew perfectly well what had happened. But it was in his best interests to remain falsely ignorant, for now at least. At his words, Flame instantly became subdued. He removed his paw from the necklet and bowed his head towards the ground, ashamed even to look Alta in the face. There was a painful war of emotions battling in his heart, and Flame was having trouble distinguishing one from the other amidst the tangled mess of shame, guilt, disbelief and fear. What could he say to the inquisitive grey dragon? How could he even begin to explain his guilt?

"Did the necklet not work?" Alta asked, after a long moment of silence in which he realised Flame was reluctant to talk. Perhaps he needed a little prompting.

As Alta predicted, his question was just the prompt needed to get Flame talking. The red dragon looked shocked at the question for a moment, until his expression twisted into one of thoughtfulness. He hadn't given the necklet a thought since leaving Warfang, but now that he did think of it Flame wondered if it actually had worked. His fireball had been strong enough to severely injure—maybe even kill—Ember. Had that been due to the necklet's power? Flame couldn't be sure, but it certainly seemed like it.

"N-No, it worked…" he mumbled at last, his golden eyes flashing with a hint of guilt and pain. "…Too well, perhaps…"

"Oh?" Alta looked politely bewildered, inwardly pleased with his own acting skills.

"I…" Flame screwed his eyes shut as his eyes burned and his chest ached, "I hurt Ember!"

Something was striving to break free from Flame's heart, a painful rush of guilt and shame that made his eyes well up with hot tears. Though he strove to keep his emotions at bay, there was no holding back the force that caused his shoulders to quiver and sobs to break from his lips. The tears that had been pooling in his eyes finally broke and trickled unchecked down his scaled cheeks, mortifying the red dragon. His emotions broke and tumbled forth, in front of Alta no less.

"I hurt her!" he yelled, his voice cracking and tears rolled down his muzzle and into his mouth. "I could have even _killed_ her! I don't know if…if she's even still alive! I hurt her, it was _me_!"

Ashamed to face the grey dragon, Flame jerked his head to the side and collapsed into the dirt, burying his head beneath his shaking paws. His tears trickled into his mouth, tasting strongly of salt, and splashed into the dirt beneath his chin. His wings trembled as his shoulders shook uncontrollably.

"It was my fault!" he howled, his voice muffled by the dirt, but his anguish clearly distinguishable. "It was _my _fault! And I…I ran away! I ran _away_! I didn't even stay to see if she was still alive, I just left her and ran! How could I…?"

His sobs sounded muffled as he cried into the dirt, his paws pressed over his head in a feeble attempt to hide his tears from Alta.

"How could I let this happen?" he choked softly, his voice thick with tears.

Alta said nothing. He stood indifferently over Flame, watching as the red dragon poured out all his misery and guilt. But the grey dragon felt nothing, even as he watched the heartbroken Flame sob uncontrollably into the ground. There was nothing there, no sympathy, no empathy, no pity. Just his cold patience as he waited for the red dragon to regain control.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Alta asked once Flame's sobs had ebbed, striving to keep his voice as gentle and kind as he could. It was a lot harder than he realised.

But evidently Alta's play-acting convinced Flame, as the red dragon soon raised his head from the ground, his muzzle covered with tears and dirt. Alta tried hard not to scrunch his nose in disgust at the pathetic sight. Flame raised a paw to scrub away the dirt and tears from his face before turning his gaze back to the grey dragon.

"I was…fighting Spyro," Flame began, struggling to find the right words. "Ember was there. I…can't remember much of the fight…it's all foggy to me, but I…I was winning. I'm sure I was. And I couldn't stop. I was about to finish him…for good."

His brow furrowed at these words, as though he'd only just realised this fact for himself. Had he really tried to _kill _Spyro? Flame was sure that wasn't what he had been aiming for when he had decided he wanted to fight the purple dragon. And yet, somehow, that was the only conclusion he could come to. Not matter which way he looked at it, Flame had aimed to kill Spyro with that last attack. Shaking the disturbing thought from his mind, Flame continued his short explanation.

"I shot my last attack at him," he murmured, thinking hard because everything was a blur to him. "A…fireball…more powerful that I'd ever conjured. But Ember…she…she blocked the attack! I was sure it was going to hit him but she…she took the blow for him!"

Flame's expression turned wildly desperate and fearful, "She shielded him! And my attack hit her instead! I…I could have killed Ember!"

He was shaking with horror by now, and if he hadn't been already lying down, Alta was sure Flame would have collapsed. The grey dragon was silent, his blue eyes gazing blankly down at him, not even trying to appear sympathetic. It was no wonder Flame had been able to break the connection between their minds. His grief was so strong that it had overpowered all other aspects of his mind that had previously allowed Alta to gain control. Namely, his anger. And that was something that Alta needed to bring back.

"Why would Ember do that?" he asked softly, and Flame raised his head to glare.

"How should I know!" he spat, but there was more guilt in his eyes than anger.

Alta hesitated for a moment and then pressed on, "Do you really think Ember would sacrifice herself for that purple dragon?"

Flame looked stunned at the question and his mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find an answer. But, he soon realised he didn't have a solid answer.

"I…I didn't think so…" he mumbled, frowning, trying to think. "I mean, I know she likes him, but…she'd never…she's never been brave enough to take such a risk…"

He felt guilty talking about Ember that way, but inside he believed it to be true. The Ember he knew was timid and childish; kind, but hesitant and careful. He would never have believed her to take such a risk, to sacrifice her own life, even for someone else. Not for _Spyro_. Frowning, he stared at the ground.

"Why would she do that, then?" Alta mused quietly, and continued when Flame didn't answer. "If such an act went against her very nature, wouldn't it be safe to presume that she didn't have control of her choice?"

Flame's eyes opened wide, unsure just what Alta was getting at. But he found out moments later when the grey dragon leant low and hissed softly in his ear.

"What if Spyro intended her to take that attack for him?"

* * *

There was a frantic rush in the infirmary when Naxos burst in with Ember, closely followed by Delos, Terrador and the injured Spyro. There were four moles on duty, and two of them instantly disappeared into the adjoining room only to return seconds later with their paws full of red crystals. The other two moles set about making the two injured dragons comfortable.

"Lay her down there," ordered the first mole, gesturing at the bed of cushions lined up along the wall.

Naxos did as he was told without a word, bending down to slip Ember's limp form off his back and onto the cushions. She flopped limply, her wings splaying over the fabric and her head resting heavy on the soft surface. Her pink scales had dulled to an almost grey colour and there was blood glimmering at the edges of her mouth. Naxos tried hard not the look at the horrific wound in her chest; it made him feel ill.

Alongside, Spyro was given similar treatment by Terrador and soon found himself spread across a bed of green cushions with the earth guardian standing over him. Sparx hovered over him, wringing his hands anxiously and wishing he could do something for his surrogate brother. Wincing at the aches in his body, Spyro craned his head to look over at Ember, but she was hidden from view by the large form of Delos.

"She'll be alright, Spyro," Terrador assured the anxious purple dragon, though he didn't sound too convinced himself.

But Spyro didn't say a word and continued to stare in her direction, wishing he could see past Delos and make sure she was still breathing. Terrador stepped aside as one of the moles hurried forwards with armfuls of gems. They glimmered crimson like freshly-spilt blood as the mole tipped them onto the cushions beside Spyro. The purple dragon struggled to sit up, looking slightly alarmed.

"No," he choked, "you need to…save them for Ember…"

The mole hesitated, but Terrador calmed Spyro soothingly, placing a large paw gently on the young dragon's head.

"No need to worry, Spyro," he murmured. "There's more than enough to go around. You need healing, too."

"But…" Spyro looked hopelessly up at the earth guardian and then turned his gaze towards Ember, trailing off.

Bowing his head, the purple dragon gave in and allowed the mole to rest the cool red stones against his aching injuries. They tended to his legs first, and Spyro winced as he felt the almost cold surface of the gems press against the deep gashes in his forelegs. The gems appeared to sink into his scales, causing his legs to glow pale red briefly, and the gashes seemed to knit themselves together. Soon, all that was left was a few, slightly discoloured scratches along his scales that the mole assured Spyro would fade in due time.

Resigning himself to being healed, the young dragon laid his head upon the cushions and waited as the same procedure was repeated for his remaining injuries.

The mole was just tending to Spyro's broken ribs when the door to the infirmary was pushed open and another dragoness stepped in. Spyro craned his head to see who it was, and was startled to see that Cynder had entered the room. She stood shyly at the door, her eyes betraying her anxiousness and what may have been the slightest inkling of guilt. Naxos and Delos, too busy watching the moles tend to Ember, didn't turn to greet her, but Terrador waved her over with a paw.

At first, Spyro noticed, she hesitated. Her gaze shifted to Ember and she quickly looked away, clearly disturbed by the state of the pink dragoness. Quietly, she stepped hesitantly towards Terrador and Spyro.

Cynder didn't say anything as she moved to stand beside Terrador; in fact, for a moment she wouldn't even look at Spyro. But the purple dragon stared longingly at her, willing her to look at him and yet half of him dreading what would happen if she did. Was she still angry at him? He wanted to apologise, to explain everything to her, but right now it just didn't seem like the right moment. Timidly, the black dragoness raised her emerald gaze and glanced sorrowfully at the purple dragon. Her expression made his heart ache, or maybe that was just the ache as his broken ribs were painstakingly healed by the red gems.

"Cynder…" Spyro mumbled, without any idea of what he was going to say to her.

But she raised a paw and gave him a weak smile, admitting, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her eyes were sad, worried, and Spyro let out the breath that he had been holding as he returned her weak smile. The ache of his healing ribs dulled as the gems did their work, and soon Spyro felt as though he'd never even fought Flame. After thanking the mole, he watched as the small, furry creature dashed away with the remaining gems.

"I'm alright," Spyro assured Cynder, the smile dropping from his face as he turned his glance towards Ember. "But…"

She followed his gaze timidly, and quickly averted her eyes again as though the very sight of the pink dragoness hurt her. Her shoulders shook and Spyro glanced at her, sure that there were tears shining in her eyes. He pushed himself to a sitting position in time to hear her soft voice.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Spyro blinked, surprised and confused.

Cynder didn't raise her gaze, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't…that I wasn't there. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, and I'm sorry…"

She lifted her gaze to his face, her eyes searching out the three forgotten scratches along his cheek, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Spyro's eyes widened and he raised his paw to his cheek, realising what she meant. He'd completely forgotten about that injury after fighting Flame, but now he vividly remembered the night when he received it. His eyes dropped to the cushion he was laying on.

"You shouldn't be apologising, Cynder," Spyro mumbled awkwardly, "I should be. I was the one who…"

"It's okay," the black dragoness said suddenly, though her eyes betrayed a deep pain that stemmed from her very heart. "It's your choice if you…if you…"

Cynder screwed her emerald eyes shut and turned her face away from Spyro, "It's okay if you like Ember, Spyro."

Spyro eyes snapped open so wide, Sparx was sure they were about to pop out of his head. The yellow dragonfly hovered awkwardly beside Terrador, watching the tense conversation between the two young dragons. The purple dragon struggled to get to his feet.

"Cynder, no, it's not…it's not like–" he began, only to be cut off by the sudden burst of conversation next to him.

"That's the best I can do for now," said the mole who had been tending to Ember, leaning back with several gems still in his arms.

Naxos looked as though he was about to hit the unfortunate mole, "Her wound isn't healed yet!"

"I know," replied the mole, standing his ground in front of the angry yellow dragon. "But I cannot risk using too many gems at once. It may be too much for her body to handle. Let her rest for a while, and we'll try again soon."

Delos glared at the mole, "What if she dies before then? If you can heal her, do it!"

The mole turned his annoyed gaze on the red dragon, "I told you, I can't do that! If we continue to pump her body full of these gems, her heart could fail! Do you want that to happen?"

Delos and Naxos hesitated, exchanging anxious glances with one another. The mole shook his head slowly, passing the remaining red gems to his assistant.

"I know she's in bad shape, but we've done the best we can. Her condition is stable for now," he assured the dragons. "She needs rest for her body to recover. We can't rush things along. Do you understand?"

Slightly abashed, the two male dragons nodded their understanding and said nothing more. Spyro had pushed himself to his feet and, although his legs were a little wobbly, he managed to stagger over to the pink dragoness. His lilac eyes swept over her limp body guiltily, noticing that some of the colour had returned to her scales and that many of the burns around the wound had been healed. But there was still a large hole in the golden scales of her chest, the scales around it twisted and charred; pus and blood leaked out to stain the cushion. His insides squirmed and he quickly looked away, his eyes stinging.

The nearest mole placed a comforting, furry hand on the purple dragon's shoulder, giving him a strained smile. He smiled back and noticed that another mole was returning with his arms full of swathes and bandages. The mole turned his beetle-black eyes on Spyro.

"We'll cover the wound for now until we're able to continue with the gem treatment. She'll be okay."

Nodding in understanding, Spyro watched as the mole swathed Ember's chest with several white bindings. With the horrible wound now covered, it wasn't so painful to look at her anymore, Spyro noticed. There was a long silence as all the dragons and moles in the room stood to stare down upon the limp, pink dragoness. Soon the moles wandered away and left the dragons to watch over their friend, though Cynder hung back anxiously.

"You may go, if you wish," Terrador said to Naxos and Delos. "We will watch over her."

The two male dragons agreed silently, wishing them luck, and gave Ember one last, regretful glance before leaving the infirmary. The silence that followed was heavy and awkward. Cynder shifted anxiously, her eyes on Spyro as he soundlessly watched the unconscious Ember. She couldn't feel resentment towards him anymore, but there was no denying the hurt and disappointment she felt. It felt as though Spyro had been taken away from her; he had slipped out of her grasp somehow, and she didn't know if she could ever get him back. What more could she do if he had his eyes on another dragoness?

"Spyro," Terrador prompted, bringing the purple dragon out of the stupor he had been slipping into.

Spyro and Sparx both looked up, turning their curious gazes to the earth guardian. The large green dragon had a serious expression on his face, and Spyro knew what he wanted even before he asked.

"I understand this may not be the best time. However," Terrador hesitated, glancing from Spyro to Ember and back again, "I need to know what happened. I need to know what occurred between you and Flame, and if it may be necessary to send out a search party to bring him back. Will you…?"

"It's alright, Terrador," Spyro sighed, turning towards the earth guardian, "I can tell you. I'm not leaving here any time soon, anyway."

Terrador stared silently down at the young dragon and then nodded once, "Very well. Tell me everything, Spyro, and don't leave anything out."

With an anxious Cynder and Sparx on either side of him, Spyro slowly began to speak. No one interrupted him, and he talked for almost a quarter of an hour, remembering each and every detail of the gruesome fight. Somehow he knew, once he had stopped talking and the sun had begun to sink, that it was going to be a long night.

**A/N: You know, I just couldn't get this chapter right. Not that I'm saying it's a bad chapter, but I just couldn't write it the way I wanted to. Dark Spyro was never going to make an appearance, but I had to add him in there just to give it a bit more 'oomph' if you know what I mean. I've had this chapter playing out in my head for ages...but I just couldn't write it right! Ah well. **

**Alta's screwing with Flame's mind... Don't you worry about Spyro and Cynder, they'll patch things up soon (next chapter, hopefully). I've got exams in a week and that means lots of study -.- so it might be a while before I write the next chapter. :) Thanks for reading, and a big thank you to all of my reviewers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	19. Hate and Love

**19. Hate and Love**

"What if Spyro intended her to take that attack?"

Flame pushed his body off the ground, though the dirt still clung to the golden scales of his underbelly. He hardly dared to believe the words that Alta had just spoken, but just the thought of such a thing caused the smallest twinge of anger to spark deep within his gut. But the red dragon wasn't about to believe Alta's suggestion so easily. After all, where was the proof?

"What are you getting at?" there was a note of suspicion in Flame's voice that Alta didn't miss. He was fishing for anything that would give him reason to trust Alta, or not to trust him.

Alta seized the opportunity without hesitation, "I know it seems like a long shot, but just think about it. A purple dragon has powers that we couldn't even dream of. Don't you think it would be simply too easy for Spyro to manipulate poor, innocent Ember?"

Flame stared. He hadn't thought of that. Flame wasn't all that educated on the powers of the legendary purple dragon, and he could only imagine the powers that Spyro kept hidden behind those unusual purple scales. It would make sense that Flame didn't know of those secret, special powers that only a purple dragon could wield. Perhaps Alta was right; with that kind of power it would be only too easy for Spyro to control a simple-minded dragoness like Ember. Flame's golden eyes narrowed.

"You think he was…controlling her?" Flame chose his words carefully, thinking about it.

Alta seemed to notice that Flame was beginning to catch on, because a triumphant smile was weaving its way onto his face and his pale blue eyes were twinkling eagerly. It was proving unnaturally easy to convince this boneheaded young dragon that this, and indeed everything else, was all Spyro's fault. But perhaps, Alta reminded himself, that was just because Flame wanted so eagerly a reason to pin the blame on the purple dragon.

"It's possible," Alta shrugged, trying not to smirk, though he couldn't stop his eyes from portraying that smugness, "and wouldn't it make sense? If Ember wouldn't do such a thing willingly, and you've assured me that she wouldn't, then it would only be fair to say that something, or someone, was controlling her."

Flame hesitated, and Alta added a falsely timid '…right?' to the end of his sentence to make sure the red dragon didn't think he was trying to convince him. Frowning, Flame stared ahead in deep thought. It looked like he'd even forgotten to be miserable. Alta waited with baited breath for him to speak.

"He was…controlling her…" Flame muttered, glaring at a point somewhere between his eyes and the nearest tree, "He didn't want me to beat him…he needed a shield."

Alta was sure he could see Flame's brain working frantically behind his sharp golden eyes. But that wasn't all. Even from where he stood, Alta could sense the slowly mounting anger of the red dragon.

"He needed a shield…so he forced Ember to leap in front of him…" Flame continued, speaking now between clenched teeth, "he forced her to take the blow…regardless of the fact that she could be killed…"

The necklet seemed to throb as Flame's anger burst forth like the eruption of a volcano, a jet of flame shooting from his maw as he roared his fury to the world.

"IT'S SPYRO'S FAULT I HURT EMBER! IT'S _HIS_ FAULT!" Flame's roar hurt Alta's ears, but the grey dragon had spotted his opportunity and he didn't hesitate to claim his prize.

The necklet pulsed as Flame's anger coursed through it, and Alta focused his mind on the throbbing piece of jewellery. He felt that familiar tug on his mind as the artefact responded, but he'd already weakened Flame's mind so much previously that there wasn't much left to do. Just a tiny tweak, a miniscule nudge, and Flame's anger overtook every pore in his body as his mind was forced deep into the necklet that throbbed around his neck. An odd look entered the red dragon's golden eyes and his body turned rigid in response. Flame's mind was trapped; Alta's plan had succeeded. But it was far from complete.

Flame stood stock still as though turned to stone, his furious gaze turned upwards and his teeth frozen in a threatening snarl. The only noise was his laboured breathing as copious amounts of dark grey smoke poured from his nostrils. Alta watched him, waiting for a reaction, but the red dragon appeared to be stunned. Not that Alta was surprised; Flame had just been robbed of his mind, of everything except his anger, and if that couldn't stun him then Alta wasn't sure _what_ could.

"Flame?"

The red dragon's eyes snapped towards the sound, and Alta noticed that they were no longer the sharp glimmering irises that they'd once been. They may have still been gold, but they were dull and lustreless, like golden tunnels that seemed to stretch on forever. They didn't even reflect the light of the setting sun. Alta was pleased, but still wary; there was nothing stopping Flame from attacking him.

"I know you can hear me, Flame," Alta continued, and was pleased to see that the red dragon had stopped to listen. "Do you remember me? I am your _friend_…Alta."

There was no response, but Alta thought he saw a flash of recognition in Flame's lustreless eyes. Smirking, the grey dragon tried again.

"Do you remember what we were doing? We were just discussing ways to destroy the purple dragon. After all…he hurt one of your friends. Remember?"

A silence. And then, in a low voice that rumbled like thunder, Flame spoke.

"Purple…dragon?" his eyes flashed, reflecting a tiny spot of light for the first time. "Spyro! I'll kill him!"

Alta expelled a sigh of relief. For a moment he'd been afraid that he'd lost Flame's mind completely. But he could feel the tug on his conscious as Flame's mind responded to his own, their connection held strong by the pulsing necklet. Now it was time to put his plan to action, time to send Flame back to the place he'd just fled from. He seemed eager enough, although that was an understatement. Flame was itching to return to the city, impatient to exact his revenge on the purple dragon, eager for the sight of his blood. This was just what Alta had hoped for.

"Yes, yes, you will kill him," Alta told the angry Flame, smirking at the deadly look in his eyes, "After all, he's in our way. And he's done so many horrible things to you and your friend hasn't he? Humiliated you, beaten you, harmed your dragoness…"

Flame teeth ground together with a horrible grating sound, and Alta saw fire lick between his jaws. A grin spread across Alta's face, and his eyes lit up as the last ray of sun flashed briefly across his vision before sinking into darkness. The smile fell abruptly from his face when he and Flame were plunged into the darkness of night. He snorted.

"He's in Warfang…I'll kill him!" Flame was snarling, but Alta cut him off with a wave of a paw.

"Not yet, Flame," he said carelessly, glancing at the dark sky dotted with countless silver stars, "we're going to wait. I hadn't realised how late it was. Of course, you could always attack tonight…but let's wait until morning. Let them fall into a false sense of security."

Flame hesitated, his anger urging him to fly immediately to Warfang. But Alta spoke wisely, and Flame's mind was still trapped within the necklet; an artefact that connected his mind to Alta's. He had no choice but to listen to Alta; for Alta's choice was his choice.

"Leave before sunrise," Alta told him, turning into the trees and beckoning him to follow, "tomorrow is the day you'll destroy that purple dragon."

Flame didn't argue; he couldn't argue. He was no more than a puppet whose strings were held by the strange grey dragon, Alta. Like a puppy following hopelessly after its master, Flame trotted behind Alta into the surrounding trees to wait out the night in the shelter of the forest.

* * *

Terrador left the infirmary just as the sun was setting, but Spyro made no move to leave Ember's side. He sat in silence, his head bowed, gazing dolefully at the comatose pink dragoness, waiting for her to awaken. But he knew she wouldn't; not yet, perhaps not ever. Guilty feelings crept into his heart like toxins spreading through his body, and his limbs trembled weakly. He didn't say a word, even when a solitary tear rolled haltingly down his muzzle and fell to splash unnoticed on the floor.

Cynder watched him, a mix of emotions swirling around in her stomach; remorse, pity, sadness, hurt… even jealousy. But it was hard to feel bitter thoughts towards a dragoness lying on Death's doorstep, even if that dragoness had stolen away the dragon that she, Cynder, loved more than any other. So the black dragoness merely sat in silence, her eyes on Spyro, aware of an uncomfortable ache that seemed to spawn from her very heart. It was hesitantly that she approached the purple dragon, for even Sparx seemed to be hanging back.

"…Spyro?" Cynder's soft voice brought the purple dragon's gaze from the floor to her face.

Expelling the smallest of sighs, Spyro rose off his haunches as the black dragoness approached. He gave her a tiny smile, but it was so weak that it barely last a second before his expression dropped into misery once more. Cynder halted in front of him, her brain whirring frantically as she tried to find something to say. Her eyes were drawn to the setting sun, descending into darkness outside.

"It's getting dark," she said, glancing timidly at him, "shouldn't we…be going?"

But Spyro shook his head slowly and said quite gently, "I'm not leaving here tonight. I can't leave her side. Not until I know she'll be okay."

Cynder knew she should have expected that answer, but it made her heart twinge painfully nonetheless. Regardless of her own feelings, however, Cynder made up her mind rather quickly to stay.

"Then, I'll stay too," she told him, her voice husky as she attempted to hold off tears. "If….if you want me to, that is. If you'd rather be…rather be alone with her, I…"

She trailed off as Spyro held up a paw to silence her, his lilac eyes shining meaningfully into her own. It seemed as though he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, but Cynder couldn't begin to imagine what it was. She stared quizzically at him until he spoke.

"I'd like you to stay," Spyro replied huskily, and Cynder was surprised to see the distressed look in his eyes. "But…there's something we need to sort out first."

Cynder felt as though her heart had plummeted into her stomach. There was no need to ask what he was referring to. But Cynder didn't want to hear it from him. She didn't think she'd be able to handle it if he told her straight.

"I-I know," she gulped as her voice caught in her throat, blinking furiously, "You don't have to say it, Spyro. I know you…you like Ember. I know you d-don't feel the same for me as I feel for y—"

"No!" Spyro's anguished exclamation cut Cynder off, and she almost stumbled backwards in surprise. Sparx was trying desperately to look anywhere but at the two dragons, uncomfortable with the way their conversation was progressing.

Cynder wasn't sure what to say in reply, but she didn't have to say anything before Spyro continued. He was looking pained, and Cynder had an odd feeling that it had nothing to do with his fight with Flame or Ember's selfless sacrifice. So why, then, did he look so guilty?

"Please, Cynder…" Spyro croaked, his eyes flicking briefly to Sparx as though he'd just noticed the dragonfly's discomfort, "we need to talk…alone."

Cynder stared, aware that her heart had suddenly started to beat faster, "Spyro?"

"Walk with me," Spyro insisted, turning towards the door with an apologetic look at Ember. Cynder nodded hesitantly and followed.

The purple dragon turned his lilac eyes pleadingly on Sparx, "Watch over Ember for me, Sparx, please. We'll be back soon."

Perhaps Sparx had noticed the note of begging in Spyro's voice, or perhaps he just wanted to be rid of the two dragons that were making him uncomfortable, but whatever the reason he didn't argue a word. His jaw rigid, and his eyes deadly serious, Sparx nodded solemnly at his surrogate brother.

"Don't worry, bro. She'll be fine with me," promised the dragonfly, sinking down to rest on the cushion beside the injured pink dragoness.

Spyro left Sparx with three simple words as he swept out of the infirmary and left the dragonfly alone with Ember; "Thank you, Sparx."

Cynder wasn't sure where Spyro was taking her; nor was she sure why he needed to talk to her alone. Surely all he was going to tell her was that he didn't feel the same way about her as she felt about him? But the black dragoness didn't argue, and merely followed Spyro meekly until he led her towards the gardens. Though slightly surprised that he had chosen this place, Cynder said nothing as they descended onto the grass. Spyro beckoned for her to follow, and she hurried curiously after him and wondered what it was he was looking for.

The sight that met them upon reaching the centre of the gardens was enough to stop Cynder in her tracks. The blossom tree, once covered in fairy-like snowy white flowers, stood bare and naked, stretching thin bare twigs towards the dusk sky. Around its base were the remnants of those delicate blossoms that had once graced the branches, crushed, torn and crumpled around the knobbly trunk. Even as they watched, the gentle breeze swept the last delicate petals from the flimsy twigs and left the blossom tree standing bare and dead-looking in the centre of the garden. Cynder wasn't sure why, but the sight of the bare tree made her heart ache with sorrow.

"The blossoms are gone," she sighed, and her eyes filled with tears as though she'd just heard of the loss of a dear friend, "all of them."

Spyro stood beside her, silent, his own sad eyes fixed on the lonely blossom-less tree that seemed to be stretching feebly towards the sky in search of light. But it found none as the sunk sank ever lower into the earth. He, like Cynder, remembered a time not so long ago, and yet one that seemed to have occurred so many years ago; a time when they'd first set eyes upon the white blossom tree; a time when Spyro had presented his dragoness with a single white flower; a time when they had expected the beginning of an age of peace. How could it have gone so wrong?

The blossom tree stood stripped of life, its beautiful flowers fallen to the earth, dashed away like the hopes for peace that they had once held. Spyro had wanted to bring Cynder here, to show her the blossoms under which they had almost admitted their feelings, to remind her that she would always be the only dragoness he ever loved. He hadn't expected the blossoms to be gone, and the tree to be dead. He hadn't expected to be faced with hopelessness. But as he looked closer, Spyro saw something that lifted his spirits, even just the slightest.

"Not all of them," Spyro replied softly, stepping closer towards the tree, his head craned towards the twiggy branches. "Look."

Curious, Cynder moved to Spyro's side and followed his gaze. Sure enough, swaying gently high above their heads was a single, white blossom. It was like a snowflake in a desert, a spirit gem in the darkness, a spot of hope in a time where all hope seemed lost. Cynder felt a warmth fill her heart at the sight of the tiny flower, blooming delicately on the otherwise bare tree. Not longer did her heart weigh heavy in her chest.

"See?" Spyro asked softly, the ghost of a smile flickering on his face. "Even when all the other blossoms have been shed, one still remains. Even when it seems like the world is spiralling into chaos, a tiny hope still remains. Just like that blossom."

"I don't know what's going to happen, or what we're supposed to do before this world can be at peace… but, as long as we still have a shred of hope I know we'll pull through. As long as one last blossom remains, there'll still be hope. And even if it should fall…I know another will bloom, and another, and one day this tree will be just like it was before: full of hope."

Cynder stared at the purple dragon, awed by his words. She'd never heard Spyro talk like that before, and she felt her spirits lift just hearing those words. But Spyro was still getting to what he wanted to say. He tore his eyes away from the tree and the lonely blossom to look Cynder in the eyes, gathering his courage to tell her what he wanted—needed—to say. Just the look in his eyes was enough to root Cynder to the spot, unable to look away.

"I need to tell you, Cynder," Spyro said. "I need to tell you the truth. I'm…in love, Cynder."

Pained, the black dragoness closed her eyes and turned her face away. She didn't want him to continue, didn't want to hear the words he was surely about to say, didn't want to hear that he'd chosen another dragoness. But that wasn't what she heard at all.

"I'm in love with you, Cynder."

Her emerald eyes snapped open in shock and she spun her gaze back to him, barely daring to believe what she'd just heard. Had she heard correctly? But she knew the instant she met his eyes that he was telling the truth, that there was no way he could have spoken those words as a lie. The last rays of sun turned his scales gold for a split second before the darkness that was night fell over them like a blanket. Only through the silvery light of the moons as they crept steadily higher in the sky could Cynder see the form of the purple dragon. Dare she believe his words?

"I know you might not believe me, Cynder," he was speaking again, his voice gentle as the cool breeze, "and I know you think I'm in love with someone else. But, believe me, that isn't true. Just let me explain to you what happened that night…please."

There was a note of begging in his voice, and Cynder barely hesitated before she nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak, but Spyro understood. He spoke for several minutes, explained to Cynder everything that Ember had told him; her crush on Flame, her flirting with Spyro to gain the red dragon's attention, her pleading to make Spyro promise not to tell anyone. When he was finished, Cynder could hardly believe her own foolishness. She could barely believe that she had thought for even a second that Spyro held feelings for Ember instead of her.

"That is…that is…" Cynder mumbled breathlessly, staring at him, her eyes shining in the moonlight, unable to find words to express what she wanted to say.

Spyro gazed anxiously at her, "Do you believe me?"

Cynder stared at him, and for a moment Spyro was afraid that she would tell him she didn't believe a word he said. But his worries were proved baseless when Cynder found her voice and the words tumbled forth.

"Of _course_ I believe you!" she cried, filled with happiness and remorse at the same time. "I believe every word you say!"

With a sob, Cynder threw herself upon him and wrapped her paws around his neck, almost knocking him over in the process. Spyro remained as still as possible, stunned, and listened to her sobbing on his shoulder.

"And I'm sorry!" she continued, her voice shrill. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to explain earlier! I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner when you said it was all a misunderstanding! I'm sorry…I'm sorry for being such a fool!"

At this, Spyro pushed her away gently so that he could look her in the eyes. She was blinking furiously, but unable to stop the salty tears that were coursing down her muzzle. He raised her chin with the claw of his wing.

"You're not a fool," he replied firmly, but kindly. "If anything, I am the fool. I made a mistake, and you suffered for it. But it's over now, and we both understand that it was all a misunderstanding. There's no need to cry anymore. You're not a fool, Cynder; you are the one dragoness I care more about than any other."

Cynder's tears had dried, but her eyes were still unnaturally glossy, no doubt still filled with unshed tears. She stepped closer to Spyro, nuzzling beneath his chin, breathing in his scent. She felt his head shift and heard the soft words he whispered to her, enough to send warm shivers down her spine and bring a smile to her face.

"I love you."

"Do you remember," Cynder purred, closing her eyes as she rubbed her cheek against the scales of his chest, "back in the centre of the world, just after we defeated Malefor? I told you back then, but I don't know if you heard me. Did you…?"

Memories rushed back to Spyro, and his eyes snapped open. The memory of those whispered words that had haunted his dreams; those words that he could not be sure were real and not merely figments of his imagination. Had she truly spoken those words back then, had it not been a dream?

"So, you did say them," Spyro replied softly, surprised, "those words…I thought it might have been merely a dream. I heard you…I heard you."

Cynder felt a smile tug at her lips and would have replied, but Spyro didn't wait for her to speak again. He draped a wing over her back to pull her towards him, and lowered his head to nudge her snout upwards with his own. Without waiting for anything, not even her consent, Spyro met her lips in a gentle kiss. He felt her turn rigid with shock at the daring move, but within seconds she had relaxed and returned the intimate gesture. A warmth spread through his scales and he felt a contentment unlike any he'd ever felt before. It was only he, Cynder and their brief moment in the realm of peace.

* * *

Terrador knew it was late to be calling a meeting, but he also knew that it simply could not wait. So the instant he left the infirmary he located the nearest persons to assist him, a group of moles heading towards the main hall, and asked them to bring the other three guardians to the Atrium. With that done, the earth guardian strode towards the Atrium himself and, once inside, waited for the others to arrive.

It took approximately ten minutes for his fellow guardians to arrive. Volteer came first, looking very intrigued and trembling with over-excitement as always. He was followed closely by a curious Cyril, who was looking characteristically bad-tempered at having been interrupted from whatever it was that he had been doing beforehand. Another two minutes passed before Thasos arrived, though, and the other three guardians spent those minutes in tense silence.

When the fire guardian did arrive, however, he wasn't alone. He was followed closely by not only Seriphos, but also by a rather curious Hunter who once more had his quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. The silence in the hall was broken only by the padding of paws as Thasos and his two followers approached the other three guardians. Hunter appeared very out of place amongst the five dragons, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Forgive me for keeping you waiting," Thasos apologised to the guardians, and then turned his earthy eyes on Seriphos and Hunter. "I hope you do not mind, but these two seemed particularly intrigued by this meeting, so I allowed them to accompany me. I hope it doesn't inconvenience you, Terrador."

"Nonsense," Terrador waved a paw. "They are more than welcome. It's good to have young heads with sharp brains amongst us."

He smiled warmly at Seriphos and Hunter, who both bowed swiftly in respect and thanked him. Terrador might have stalled for longer; however he was quite aware of Volteer quivering with expectation behind him and Cyril tapping his claws in impatience. So, without further ado, the earth guardian got straight to the point.

"Forgive me for calling this meeting so late, but I'm sure you are aware of the urgent matters at hand. We can afford no procrastination," Terrador paused and glanced at his fellow guardians. "I fear the Dark Age that Malefor began has yet to end. Peace is a long way off, my comrades; this world is still not safe."

A silence fell in response to those words, as every beast present fell into deep and melancholy thoughts. Cyril swished his tail anxiously, and the scrape of his scales against the floor seemed magnified in the silence.

"It has been three weeks, Terrador," the ice guardian reminded them all, "and there has been so sign of Feldun's search party. Let us not forget the grublins that young master Spyro ran afoul of. And now one of our own has grievously injured young Ember for reasons we cannot understand. Tell me, Terrador, should we be expecting the worst?"

"The worst?" Terrador hesitated, his green eyes anxious. "I fear the worst has yet to come. I cannot explain why, Cyril, but I can feel a disturbance, as though something is not as it should be. I fear we have yet to experience the horrors of Malefor's remaining legacy…"

Volteer cut in, his yellow scales almost rattling in his eagerness to speak, "I have felt it, too, Terrador! An unusual phenomenon, an immense disturbance in the natural order of the world, a foreboding presence that cannot be explained! What could it be? What sort of creature could cause such a disturbance? Are we to face another cataclysm to rival the force of the fallen Dark Master?"

Seriphos exchanged an anxious glance with Thasos, but Hunter had his paw on his chin and was looking both concerned and thoughtful. Terrador turned his green eyes on the electricity guardian.

"I am afraid, Volteer, that you ask questions that I cannot hope to answer," he replied solemnly, his deep voice ringing hollowly through the otherwise empty Atrium. Volteer looked crestfallen, but Cyril agreed wholeheartedly with the earth guardian.

"With the little information we have, we cannot hope to predict what the future will bring," the ice guardian added, scowling, "or if there is another beast out there with power to rival that of Malefor himself. Frankly, such a thing seems utterly preposterous. There is no beast that could stand up to the power of the legendary purple dragon, and with Malefor gone, Spyro is the last of his kind. At least for another ten generations…"

"Cyril speaks the truth," Terrador agreed. "There is no creature alive with powers to rival Malefor, save for Spyro himself. Whatever it is that is disturbing the order of nature, it cannot pose as much a threat to our race as the former Dark Master once did."

A feeling of relief swept through the others, but Terrador wasn't finished yet.

"However," he continued, putting a dampen on their spirits, "with our world in a weakened state as it is, any threat, be it big or small, could put an end to our efforts to restore the race of dragons. We must consider this disturbance with caution, or we may find ourselves gone from the planet for good."

"But we don't even know what the threat is, Terrador!" Thasos cried, clearly disturbed by the conversation. "How can we defend ourselves from a threat we cannot see?"

"Thasos is right, master Terrador," Seriphos took the fire guardian's side, although he felt guilty speaking up against his old master, "we cannot be expected to defend ourselves against an unknown threat. Even if we know that something is disturbing the order of nature, as you put it, what can we do to stop it if we do not know what it is?"

The earth guardian gazed upon the sceptic green dragon, clearly unperturbed by his argument. Terrador already had his answer ready.

"We prepare ourselves," he replied. "Do whatever we can to protect this city. And in the mean time we must gather information, whatever information we can, to help us understand this threat."

Something clicked in Cyril's mind, "Information…yes! Have the scouts returned yet, Terrador? Surely they will have some useful information regarding those pesky grublins."

But Terrador only shook his head slowly, "Oh yes, Cyril, they have returned. But they brought little information back with them. Apparently the grublins have vanished off the face of the earth. They found nothing, not even a trail that might lead them to the fiends' hideout. We know nothing of the beasts that attacked Spyro and his group."

Cyril's face fell. The news had certainly put a dampen on his spirits. What could they hope to do to defend against a hidden foe? The guardians exchanged dark looks, realising the hopelessness of their situation. Desperate for any information, the ice guardian tried a different tact.

"What of Spyro?" Cyril asked, desperately. "Have you asked him what occurred in the courtyard?"

"Yes," Terrador nodded, and the guardians leaned in eagerly to hear what he had to say. "Perhaps it may be a little more useful than what the scouts had to report…but only a little. Spyro told me that Flame attacked him for some unknown reason. It was an unprovoked attack and even when Spyro refused to fight, Flame would not back down. What Spyro can tell us is that Flame wasn't acting like himself. He recounts that the young dragon fought to kill, and that it seemed as though he was unaware of what he was doing. What do you make of that, Cyril?"

The ice guardian looked most intrigued, but a part of him seemed rather sceptical of the account, "Unaware of what he was doing? How can that be? Of course the foolish, boneheaded dragon was aware what he was doing…why else would he have done it? We've all seen the way he antagonises Spyro! Flame despises the purple dragon!"

Thasos was looking pained, "I won't say I don't agree with you, Cyril, but do you really believe that Flame would want to _kill _young Spyro? I've known him since he was a hatchling, and I know he's stubborn and occasionally violent, but he'd never _kill_ someone! That isn't like him!"

Again, Seriphos agreed with the old orange dragon, "I'd be lying if I said I believed Flame capable of killing someone in cold blood. Thasos and I know the young dragon much better than any of you, and we both know that such a thing is simply not within his nature!"

Seriphos hesitated and bowed apologetically to the other three guardians, "No disrespect meant by that, Master Terrador. I merely meant that we have known Flame for longer than you have…"

"No, no, you are quite right, Seriphos," Terrador waved off the apology, "and I agree with you. I may have only known Flame for a short time, but I do believe that killing is not within his nature. Cyril, Volteer, you agree?"

Volteer nodded quickly, but Cyril hesitated for a few moments, unconvinced. At last he gave a sharp quick nod, agreeing reluctantly with his fellow guardians. Pleased though Thasos was that Flame had been spared the title of murderer, he couldn't help but frown as he came to a new realisation.

"So if we agree that Flame would never attempt to kill someone, are we suggesting that, in this moment, Flame was _not _in control of his actions?" the orange guardian asked, turning his earthy brown eyes on Terrador.

The earth guardian nodded slowly, and Volteer and Cyril exchanged curious glances. Every dragon was thinking the same thing, but it was Hunter who voiced their thoughts allowed.

"Then who was?" the cheetah asked solemnly. The words echoed heavily in the following silence, as each creature present realised he did not have the answer.

Hunter sighed, folding his arms, "This will get us nowhere. Terrador, do you not think it wise to compare all the information we gave gathered so far?"

The earth guardian looked surprised that he hadn't thought of the suggestion first, "Of course! That's exactly what we should do, Hunter! I knew there was a reason we needed you here…"

Skimming over the compliment, Hunter tapped his chin thoughtfully, "So what do we have? Start from the beginning."

"The search party left three weeks ago," Terrador replied, "and we have heard no sign of them since."

"The place where the search party was supposed to be searching was overrun by hostile grublins," Seriphos added grimly, "but there was no sign of any dragons."

"The scout party found no trace of any grublins," Volteer added excitedly, "perhaps they have a hiding place!"

"Flame attacked Spyro and injured Ember, presumably not in control of his own actions," Thasos cut in, before Cyril could.

Hunter had been ticking them off on his fingers and looked curiously up at Terrador, "Is that all? Nothing else unusual?"

The guardian's exchanged glances, but none could think of anything else unusual that might be helpful. No one, except for Cyril. The ice guardian had that familiar look of icy arrogance in his eyes when he spoke, as though he'd thought of something that no one else had the brains to remember.

"Perhaps this isn't relevant, but I believe we should consider any and all possibilities," Cyril sniffed, before adding his contribution. "Young Flame disappeared the day that Spyro left to search for the missing search party. We have no proof that he was within the city at that time. If, say, he left the city, perhaps something could have happened to him during that time…"

A thoughtful silence fell. Thasos looked surprised, as though he'd completely forgotten about Flame's misadventure. Seriphos scowled darkly as he remembered something else.

"Let's not forget Ember's actions," the green dragon added. "She snuck out after us…who is to say that Flame wasn't with her, although she insisted he wasn't?"

The guardians nodded in agreement, and Hunter frowned as he tried to process the rush of information and make sense of it all.

"Are we in agreement that Flame's sudden unprovoked attack on Spyro may be related to whatever it was that caused the disappearance of the search party?" the cheetah asked.

"And that Flame's disappearance on that day may also be related to his actions," Cyril added sniffily.

The other guardians seemed hesitant to agree, clearly not convinced by the flimsy links that were being drawn. Terrador could sense an argument forming, especially as Cyril's pompous attitude rose to a dangerous level.

"There's only one way to find out," the earth guardian said wisely, before anything more could be said on the matter, "and that is to find Flame himself."

"It's getting late, Terrador," Thasos replied anxiously, "should we send out a search now?"

"No," Terrador shook his head, "they'll find nothing in the dark. We wait until morning."

"And what will we do once we find him?" Cyril asked edgily.

Terrador turned his stern green eyes on the ice guardian, "We bring him back here, whether he wants to come or not. And we will question him. At the moment, he is the best lead we have. There are still many things we need to know. I just hope that young Flame has the answers."

In silence, the others nodded their agreement. There was nothing else they could to. In such a time of uncertainty, all they could do was search for answers and hope for the best. The fate of the race of dragons was more uncertain than ever, and the guardians took to their beds that night with worries and anxieties weighing heavy on their hearts. They were unaware, however, as the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon, that the very object of their worries was making his way towards the dragon city.

Flame was on his way back to Warfang. And there was only one thing on his mind: the death of a certain purple dragon.

**A/N: Two exams down, four to go...and I still found time to write this, somehow. It took me 19 chapters to get Spyro and Cynder together? What have I been doing this entire time? :) I'm trying to figure out how many chapters I've got left until the end of this story...come to think of it, there's not that many. 10 at the most, maybe less... Soon, in another two or three chapters, you'll learn about Alta's motives. Ooh I can't wait to write it! I love you, my reviewers! You always disagree when I hate my chapters... ^.^ Thanks for reading!**


	20. Flame Attacks

**20. Flame Attacks**

Early morning light crept across the city, spreading its tendrils over the luscious grass of the gardens and illuminating the scales of a black dragoness. Cynder lay beneath the flowerless blossom tree, alone, soaking up the peaceful morning air as it drifted over her scales. Spyro had said he would meet her here after he'd assisted the moles to continue the gem treatment on Ember's wound, and it was here that she waited.

It didn't bother her than he hadn't come yet, nor was she worried that he might not come, because she knew that he would. The memories of the previous night still made her smile, content by the cool breeze and the warm feeling of satisfaction within her chest. There was no hurry. He would come.

Cynder breathed deeply, inhaling the scent from the flowers that bloomed in the garden beds around her, and turned her gaze up towards the branches of the blossom tree. She smiled when she saw the familiar, lonely white blossom still blooming strong on the tip of its branch, and looked away again. Several times she did this, as though anxious to make sure that the blossom was still there. Something about that lonely flower seemed to represent her own feelings of optimism; if it was gone, then so was hope. But no matter how many anxious glances Cynder shot at it, the blossom still remained steady on the branch.

Content, Cynder let her head drop onto her paws and closed her emerald eyes against the glare of the morning sun. In this position, beneath the tree, she waited for the purple dragon to arrive. Several minutes passed, and the silence was only broken by the rustling of leaves as the wind swept gently through the bushes. A sigh escaped Cynder's lips, and she continued to wait.

Several more minutes passed, and the tip of her tail began to twitch backwards and forwards—a sign of growing impatience. She opened her eyes when something soft brushed against her cheek, but it was only a leaf carried by the wind from a nearby bush. Cynder raised her head; the blossom was still there. Expelling a sigh of impatience, she let her head fall to her paws once more.

Further away, Cynder could hear the quiet mutterings of a group of dragons that were walking towards the main hall. They passed by, their voices growing louder for a few moments, and then continued on. The voices faded into silence, and Cynder found herself staring glumly at a blade of grass quivering in front of her snout. With every breath it quivered, swaying backwards and forwards, almost touching the tip of her nostrils. She blinked, slightly cross-eyed, and looked up hopefully. But there was no sign of Spyro.

What was taking him so long?

Cynder scowled at the blade of grass again, only to realise she didn't remember which one it was amongst all the others. Rolling her eyes, Cynder checked the blossom again before laying her head back down. The grass tickled her cheek, and she flattened it with a paw. Silence fell, broken only by the swish of Cynder's tail as it swayed to and fro through the grass. Several minutes passed before a noise reached Cynder's ears.

The bushes were rustling, as though something was pushing its way through them. Thinking of Spyro, Cynder raised her head and looked hopefully towards the noise.

At first she saw nothing, and listened curiously as the bushes rustled, stopped, and rustled again. She was about to call out Spyro's name, and ask him what he thought he was doing sneaking around in the bushes, when she saw something that changed her mind. The leaves parted briefly and the light of the sun glanced momentarily off a crimson scale. It could have been any red dragon, but Cynder knew better. She stayed as still as possible, watching, until she caught a glimpse of a red face with deep, golden eyes.

"Flame!" she hissed, shocked and unbelieving, and instantly those golden eyes snapped towards her.

Their eyes met and, in the prolonged silence, Cynder felt anger rise in her chest. How _dare _he come back here, after all he'd done the day before? She was on her feet in an instant, preparing to spring on the half-concealed red dragon in the bushes, when he suddenly jerked away from her and disappeared. Startled and angry, Cynder yelled after him and took off in pursuit.

"Hey!" she yelled, her voice ringing angrily as she leapt over the bushes and saw him taking off towards the main courtyard. "Flame!"

There was no mistaking him now. That red dragon was definitely Flame. He had some nerve showing his face here, after what happened yesterday. Forgetting all about Spyro in those few crucial seconds, Cynder tore after Flame and sent dirt flying as she leapt through the garden beds. There was no way he was getting away from her.

Flame would have attacked Cynder there and then when she'd called out to him in the gardens. But a strange voice in the back of his head had reminded him that his target was Spyro, and that this black dragoness would only slow him down. So, in an effort to throw her off, he had turned tail and ran. Oddly enough, unlike his former self, Flame didn't feel the slightest bit humiliated at having fled like a coward from a dragoness. His mind was on his mission: find and kill the purple dragon.

But the black dragoness wasn't about to let him get away, Flame noted with annoyance. No matter how fast he ran, she still seemed to be catching up. He could hear her paws thundering against the ground, and her heavy, angry breaths as she strained her body to the limit. Chancing a glance behind him, Flame caught a glimpse of a pair of furious emerald eyes, and quickly forced his body to go faster. The burst of speed took him several leaps ahead of the black dragoness, and for a moment he thought he might have outrun her when the sound of her thundering paws ceased. But before he could even look behind him again, Flame felt something hard, heavy and painful collide with his side.

The two dragons tumbled over each other and landed sprawled on the hard ground at the edge of the main courtyard. Flame blinked and made to raise his head, aware of the angry voice in his mind telling him to get up. He wanted nothing more than to obey that voice, but found himself pinned as the black dragoness suddenly appeared above him and forced him back down, pressing her claws into his shoulders.

Flame snarled up at her, and she glared equally as ferociously back at him. Her emerald eyes were glinting like real jewels, and her ivory teeth were bared in a threatening snarl. What was her name again?

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, gnashing her teeth. Flame glared and didn't answer.

'_She's proving more trouble than she's worth,' _said the voice, and Flame listened intently for its instructions. _'Kill her now and get it over with. Then find the purple dragon and kill him!'_

Flame didn't need to be told twice. His eyes flashed with fury, and with a strength born from anger he tore the black dragoness away from his body and surged to his feet. She skidded away from him, bouncing across the cobblestones to come to a rest near the centre of the courtyard. Baring his teeth in a vicious snarl reminiscent of a haunting smile, Flame began to stalk towards her.

Cynder raised her head groggily, disorientated by the tumble and wincing at the scrapes along her side and wings. Though still dazed, Cynder's instincts kicked in when she sensed her opponent stalking slowly towards her. Clearing her head with a violent shake, the black dragoness scrambled to her feet and spun to face the red dragon. He paused when their eyes met, and for a moment Cynder's resolve faltered when she stared into his gaze.

There was something strange about those eyes, usually so sharp and intelligent—they no longer seemed to reflect the light, stretching on like empty, golden tunnels to nowhere. Cynder felt a chill run down her spine and took an involuntary step backwards. There was something wrong.

Flame's snarl turned abruptly into a wicked grin, and his lustreless eyes seemed to glint madly before he launched his whole body at the black dragoness. Shocked, Cynder couldn't suppress the cry that escaped her lips as she dived out of the way. His vicious claws missed her by inches and she scrambled away as he tumbled ungracefully across the ground, attempting to recover from his missed strike. Cynder took the opportunity to steel her quaking nerves and focus her reeling mind, circling around the crumpled red dragon who was struggling back to his feet.

Flame spun around so quickly that his tail swung out like a whip and glanced painfully across Cynder's cheek, his tailblade drawing a miniscule amount of blood from her black scales. She jerked her face away, her cheek stinging, and rolled to the side when he made to lash out at her again. His claws missed and she slipped stealthily around behind him, fastening her teeth around his tail. He roared in pain and anger as she tugged forcefully and pulled him back onto his haunches.

Cynder released his tail and darted away before Flame could turn and retaliate, only to dart speedily back in and ram her forehead painfully into his chest.

He was thrown backwards, winded, and landed temporarily stunned on his back with his wings crumpled beneath him. Cynder backed away slowly, blinking away the headache she'd just given herself. In the silence that followed, she kept a wary eye on the red dragon and tried to figure out just what was going on.

She knew Flame was a stubborn and occasionally violent young dragon who got into more fights than was sensible, but this just wasn't like him at all. First he'd fought to kill Spyro and now, Cynder had no doubt, he was trying to kill her. But the strangest thing was that he was acting completely different to himself. There were no cocky remarks, no confident grins. He was like a killing machine, fighting grimly to win, as though he was on a mission. What could have happened to make his demeanour change so quickly?

But Cynder didn't have much longer to ponder the mystery, for Flame had soon surged to his feet and was attacking with even more ferocity than before. Cynder had only just skidded out of the way when a white-hot lance of fire shot past her cheek and left her scales smoking. Stunned, Cynder's eyes widened and she stumbled away, aware that his elemental attack had almost left her without an eye. Her eyes narrowed to a glare.

"Picking it up a notch, are we?" she hissed, feeling acid well up in the back of her throat. "Fine!"

The glob of acid only just missed Flame, splattering on the cobblestones as he ducked out of the way. Angrily, Cynder tried again and again, eventually succeeding in striking his shoulder. His howl of pain echoed hauntingly as the acid ate away at his red scales. Swiftly, he dashed the acid off his shoulder and stood wincing as the wound bubbled and festered before his eyes. Cynder bared her teeth in a kind of triumphant grimace.

"Doesn't feel so good, huh?" she spat, glaring. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? Why did you try to kill Spyro? Why are you trying to kill me?"

But, though Flame's gaze snapped hatefully towards her, he didn't answer. Instead, he opened his mouth and expelled a wave of burning, orange fire that threatened to roast Cynder alive. But it was blown away when Cynder retaliated by breathing a forceful gust of wind from her maw. It swept the fire away and left Flame looking slightly windswept, but it didn't help when Flame attacked once more.

Fire spurted from his mouth, licking at the air and, before it could dissipate, Flame lurched forwards into it. His charge carried him through the fire that clung to his scales and straight into the startled Cynder, a perfect replica of one of Spyro's favourite moves that he had fondly entitled the 'Comet Dash'.

Cynder screamed as the fire ate at the sensitive scales of her chest, the force of the strike sending her flying backwards, and landed painfully on her back. She lay still for a few moments, quivering with pain, sure that several of her ribs were broken, her scales smoking. Flame strode over to her, fire licking between clenched teeth, preparing to finish her off. But the former Terror of the Skies wasn't about to go down so easily.

Forcing the pain to the back of her mind, Cynder forced her body upright and swung her tail out like a whip towards the approaching red dragon. Her scythe-like tailblade cut viciously into the sensitive scales between his shoulder and neck, tearing a jagged gash down his chest.

Yelling in pain, Flame struggled backwards and almost collapsed as blood began to pulse from the fresh wound. Cynder turned to face him, breathing just as heavily, bleeding from several cuts to her chest and cheek. Her chest ached horribly, but she pushed it out of her mind as she faced her opponent. Somehow she had to get answers out of him; somehow she had to figure out why he was doing this. But how could she get answers out of a dragon that only wanted to kill? He hadn't even spoken a single word, which was very unlike him. Cynder had a feeling that there was more to this than she could see.

Something was very wrong with Flame.

Flame's breath was coming in short, pained breaths, his nostrils flaring as blood dribbled down his scales. He turned his lustreless eyes on Cynder once more and, without warning, threw himself at her with claws bared. Startled, Cynder did the first thing that came to mind: she screamed. But it wasn't any ordinary scream. It was a screech that pierced the silence like a knife and struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it. It was the scream of Fear, a weapon of the feared Terror of the Skies.

Flame's pupils dilated as the sound assaulted his ears and tumbled onto the ground in front of Cynder, clutching at his head in an attempt to make it stop. Whimpers escaped his mouth and he continued to tremble as the echo of the scream repeated itself inside his head. Cynder backed away, believing she'd finally halted him in his tracks, but she hadn't reckoned with the voice that screamed in the back of Flame's head. It ordered him to get up, somehow even drowning out the echo of Cynder's Fearful scream, bringing the red dragon back to his senses.

He recovered so quickly, Cynder didn't have time to dodge. She landed hard on her side as Flame's claws tore into her shoulder and left three bleeding gashes in her scales. Her breath caught in her throat as the pain shot through her body, but Cynder forced herself to roll out of the way before Flame could pounce on her. Her eyes now wide with fear, Cynder turned her gaze wildly on the red dragon.

"Why are you doing this?" she screamed, desperation filling her voice. "Don't you realise what you're doing? Don't you realise what you've _done_?"

Evidently he didn't, or he wasn't listening to her, for he continued his attack without heed of her words. She scrambled away from his claws, which passed so close to her face that she felt the breeze as they rushed by, and continued to call out to him. Somehow she had to reach him, make him understand.

"Ember's in the infirmary because of you!" Cynder yelled. "She almost _died_ because of you! So why are you doing this?"

It was only a moment, just a brief moment, but Flame faltered and hesitated. Cynder instantly took the opportunity, darting forwards and aiming her claws towards his snout. He jerked his head up at the last second, and her claws glanced instead across his neck. But it wasn't scales that she felt. No, it was something much smoother and harder, cold and flawless, like a gem.

Startled, Cynder backed away and stared as something around Flame's neck flickered and appeared. The red dragon had paused, frozen as though stunned, and around his neck glimmered a strange, transparent gold necklet. Cynder's eyes widened.

"What is that?" she muttered, mostly to herself, staring at the odd ornament. It flickered for a moment and disappeared briefly, only to reappear again, as though Cynder's strike had confused it.

Flame was blinking slowly, an odd look in his eyes as though he was unsure what was happening. Cynder took a cautious step towards him, her eyes shifting from the flickering necklet to his confused eyes.

"Flame?" she asked timidly, but received no answer. It looked like Flame was struggling with something deep inside of him.

Suddenly, before Cynder's very eyes, the necklet flickered and disappeared again, merging with the colour and pattern of Flame's scales. Flame's eyes returned to their determined and lustreless state and, before Cynder could react, he launched himself at her. His claws, sharp as knives, cut deep into Cynder's back and blood spurted from her black scales.

A scream of agony ripped from her throat, echoing throughout the city, and Cynder collapsed in a heap. Flame's snarl morphed into a grin of sick amusement, his claws stained with the blood of the dragoness, ready to end what he had begun.

* * *

Spyro watched anxiously as the wound in Ember's chest slowly healed over with every red gem that soaked into her scales. After a few moments, the mole tending to her stepped back with several red crystals still clutched in his furry paws. Spyro gazed down at the pink dragoness, his eyes sweeping over the marred scales of her chest, and was pleased to see that the wound was almost gone. The discoloured scar tissue in the centre of her chest was the only proof that the horrid wound had ever been there.

Smiling, Spyro turned to thank the mole.

"No need to thank me," the mole replied, waving a paw as he dumped the remaining red crystals into the arms of his assistant. "She's not out of the danger zone yet. The wound may be healed, but whether she'll wake up or not is yet to be seen. If her body was unable to handle the stress of such a serious wound, not to mention so much gem-treatment, well…"

"I know," Spyro sighed, glancing at Ember's closed eyes, "but she's strong. I know she'll wake up."

The mole glanced at him, "For your sake, and hers, I hope you're right."

The purple dragon stood up suddenly, "I need to get going, I promised Cynder I'd meet her in the gardens. Watch over her for me. Sparx will probably drop in later."

"Alright, off you go then," the mole waved him away. "Go enjoy yourself. She'll be fine in our hands."

Grinning his thanks, Spyro hurried out of the infirmary and took flight towards the gardens. The cool morning air rushed past his face, cooling his scales and refreshing him. It was a pleasant day. Soaring down towards the gardens, Spyro hoped he hadn't made Cynder wait for long. He expected to see her sitting beneath the blossom tree, but as he hovered closer he noticed a complete absence of the black dragoness. Confused, Spyro landed softly on the grass and looked around for any sign of Cynder. But she didn't seem to be anywhere.

"Odd," Spyro mumbled, and suddenly began to worry.

What if she'd left? What if she had been fed up with waiting and decided to find something better to do? But no, Spyro told himself, Cynder wouldn't do something like that. He hadn't made her wait that long, had he? Maybe she was hiding in the bushes, waiting to spring out and surprise him when he least expected it. Glancing around, Spyro noticed a slightly flattened spot in the grass under the blossom tree. Someone had been lying there recently, and Spyro was willing to bet anything that it had been Cynder. But where was she now?

The purple dragon didn't have long to ponder that mystery before the bone-chilling shriek of a dragoness cut through the air. It was a scream of agony, and one that made Spyro's blood run cold. He'd recognise that voice anywhere.

"Cynder!" Spyro yelled, springing into the air and flying as fast as his wings could carry him towards the source of the scream.

Dreading what he would find there, Spyro urged his wings to carry him towards the main courtyard and hoped that he wasn't too late. Something had happened to Cynder, and Spyro could only hope that she was okay.

'_If someone has hurt her,'_ he thought angrily, _'I won't let them get away with it.'_

As he reached the edge of the courtyard, his eyes zoned in on two figures near the centre of the courtyard. One was black, lying limp on the ground, and the other was red. Spyro knew who it was even before he saw his face.

"Flame!" he hissed, and shot like an arrow towards him.

Spyro landed harder than he intended, jarring his legs on impact, but he ignored the pain.

"Flame!" he roared, and the red dragon turned swiftly to face him.

But Spyro's eyes were drawn instead to the dragoness lying behind Flame, her body trembling as blood poured over her sleek, black scales. Spyro's eyes widened in horror as he gazed upon Cynder, his feet rooted to the spot. Her scales were slick with blood which was flowing from several deep lacerations in her back, and at the sound of his voice she had turned her eyes on him. They were filled with pain and fear, which was not an emotion that Spyro saw very often in Cynder.

Flame was staring at him with empty, golden eyes, too startled by Spyro's sudden appearance to attack. Or perhaps he just wanted the purple dragon to make the first move. But Spyro made no move to attack. His gaze was fixed on Cynder, his eyes wide as saucers. He could hear the blood pumping through his head, the beat of his heart sounded magnified against his chest, and his scales suddenly felt very hot. Something bubbled within his gut, a white hot substance like magma, threatening to burst forth. His mouth felt suddenly dry; everything around him seemed to have melted away but for the two figures in front of him.

"Spyro…" Cynder whispered, shifting her head to stare at him, her eyes filled with tears of agony.

The sound of her trembling voice sent Spyro over the edge. His scream of fury turned into a deep, guttural roar as his purple scales darkened to inky black. The lilac colour of his irises faded into nothing but glowing whiteness and even the yellow membranes of his wings darkened to a murky brown. The air around him seemed to swim with shadows, and just the sight of his pupil-less, glowing eyes could send any dragon into fits of terror. But Flame didn't bat an eyelid.

"You!" Spyro screamed, his voice deeper than ever and strangely magnified. "I will _kill_ you!"

Flame uttered an unearthly shriek of rage in response, and the two male dragons met each other in a flurry of teeth and claws. Fearful, Cynder struggled to raise her head but cried out in pain as her injuries sent waves of fresh agony through her body. Trembling, Cynder could only lie still and anxiously watch the fight between the two male dragons.

Spyro had lost control, but somehow she had to tell him about that necklet. She was sure that necklet was controlling Flame. She'd never seen it before, and when she'd struck it Flame had almost returned to his senses. That piece of jewellery had to be the reason for his sudden change in demeanour.

Spyro's teeth sank deep into the back of Flame's neck, bringing the metallic taste of blood to his tongue, and the red dragon howled in pain. Biting down hard, Spyro twisted his head and flung Flame forcefully away from him. The red dragon bounced across the cobblestones and came to a rest with his legs splayed out and a deep bite mark in the back of his neck. His teeth dripping with the blood of his opponent, Spyro strode slowly towards Flame like a beast stalking its prey.

'_Get up!'_ the voice was shrieking in Flame's head. _'Kill him!'_

It sounded desperate, almost fearful, and Flame struggled to obey it. He'd barely pushed himself upright when Spyro's forehead collided with his stomach with the force of a battering ram. The wind was instantly forced out of Flame's lungs, and he fell backwards onto the cobblestones, gasping. Coughing violently, Flame feebly struggled onto his knees and spat blood over the cobblestones. The voice was screaming in his head, angry now, but Flame's body felt too weak to obey. He raised his gaze in time to see the shadowy form of Spyro lurch towards him.

Still coughing, Flame managed to roll to the side to avoid the deadly claws of the dark-scaled dragon. He wasn't sure what was happening, he couldn't even remember why he was supposed to be fighting this dragon. Who was that voice to order him around, anyway?

'_You fool! You coward! Fight him!' _the voice shrieked again, shrill and furious, _'Don't you remember what he did to Ember?'_

Flame's eyes widened and new strength surged through his body as his anger returned. That was right; Ember. He was fighting for her. With a roar of rage, the red dragon rolled onto his feet and leapt towards Spyro at the same time as Spyro leapt for him. Their claws met, their jaws biting and snapping, straining to inflict damage upon the other. Spyro's glowing white eyes burned into Flame's like white fire, but the red dragon didn't back down. It was his mission to kill the purple dragon, and that was just what he was going to do.

"Spyro!" Cynder cried feebly, wincing as she watched the darker form of the purple dragon slash Flame violently across the face. "Spyro, please!"

But the dark dragon didn't pay her any heed. His mind and eyes were focused on Flame and he, like his opponent, was fighting to kill. Backing up a few paces, Spyro suddenly opened his mouth and emitted a beam of pure, violet energy. It seemed to warp the air around it and glowed like fire as it shot towards Flame. It missed him by inches, striking only the tip of his horn as he tipped his body sideways to avoid it. Flame trembled and staggered again to his feet, aware of the now-startled voice in his head.

'_What is this power?' _it sounded strained now, and panicky.

Spyro's unearthly scream almost made Flame's bones rattle, and he took an involuntary step back. But then he remembered Ember, and once again rage filled his body, filling him with a sort of reckless determination. Fearless of the shadowy dragon that faced him, Flame flung himself at his opponent with teeth and claws bared. They tumbled over each other, and Flame sprang upright in time to catch Spyro off guard.

But the wave of fire that he sent towards his opponent suddenly dissipated as another purple beam of convexity cut through it. Flame barely had time to dodge, and felt the white-hot beam graze his face. Any other dragon would have been afraid, but Flame felt no such emotion. Indeed, he felt no emotion at all but the anger which he directed fully at his opponent. Neither dragon seemed aware of the black dragoness that was slowly and painfully pushing her injured body upright.

Cynder panted as lances of agony swept through her, but she didn't stop. She had to get to Spyro, she had to reach him somehow, make him listen. Somehow she had to stop him before he ended up killing Flame. Not that she cared for the red dragon, but if he was being controlled then that meant he was innocent of the wrongdoings he had been accused of. He didn't deserve death at the hands of this psychotic counterpart of the purple dragon.

"Spyro!" Cynder tried again, her voice ringing feebly as she attempt to drag her body towards him. "Spyro, listen to me! You don't have to kill him! There's a…a necklet! It's controlling him, I'm sure it is!"

But the white-eyed Spyro didn't even look at her as he continued his attack on Flame. Gritting her teeth, Cynder forced herself to stand up. Her legs quivered, threatening to give way beneath her, but slowly she began to walk towards the fighting dragons. Over and over she called Spyro's name, hoping somehow that her voice would reach him in his out-of-control state.

She saw Flame fall onto the cobblestones again, a new set of lacerations bleeding across his hindquarters. Spyro was stalking towards him again, blood dripping from his teeth and claws. It was a terrible sight, and Cynder wanted nothing more than to look away. But she didn't.

"Spyro!" she screamed, lurching towards him. "Spyro, I know you can hear me! Stop! STOP!"

Flame was getting to his feet again, Spyro was preparing another beam of convexity; Cynder knew this was her last chance. With all the strength she could muster, she forced her injured body to leap into Spyro's path. He stopped as she skidded in front of him and collapsed, gasping, in a heap at his feet. Hearing Flame approaching from behind her, Cynder forced herself to stand up and face the white eyes of Dark Spyro.

"Spyro!" she cried in his face. "Stop this!"

He raised a paw to push her away, his white eyes glaring, but Cynder wouldn't be shifted so easily. She locked her limbs in place and glared him straight in the eye.

"I said _stop, Spyro_!" her voice rang out shrill and forceful. Spyro faltered.

He hesitated for a moment, staring at the black dragoness, and his eyes began to return to their original state. His scales slowly morphed from inky black to brilliant violet, and his underbelly and wings changed from murky brown to majestic gold. Cynder barely had time to feel relieved that he was back to normal before he suddenly grabbed her and leapt to the side. They tumbled over each other, and Cynder lay wincing as Spyro got to his feet beside her. Having missed his target, the force of his leap sent Flame rolling over the cobblestones towards the far side of the courtyard.

"Cynder?" Spyro prompted anxiously, standing over her. "Cynder, are you okay?"

It as a stupid question; he knew she wasn't. Her own blood covered her scales and stained the ground beneath her, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Afraid, Spyro quickly lowered his head to nudge her snout reassuringly. She opened her emerald eyes and managed to smile at him.

"Y-you're back…" she sighed, wincing.

"I'm sorry," Spyro's eyes stung with remorseful tears, a lump forming in his throat, "I-I lost control…"

Cynder waved a paw feebly, "It's fine, Spyro… But, listen to me…about Flame, there's…"

She broke off, wincing as fresh blood flowed from her injuries. Spyro nuzzled her cheek gently.

"Don't try to speak," he insisted, "I'll get you to the infirmary as soon as I can."

"No, Spyro, listen," Cynder tried again, determined to tell him what she knew, "Flame's got…got a necklet. It's…around his neck. I know you can't see it now…but it's there. I'm sure that it's controlling him…I'm sure it is. Y-You need to…to break it."

Spyro looked up for a moment to glance towards Flame, who was struggling back to his feet some distance away. There was nothing around his neck from what Spyro could see, but if Cynder said it was there, he trusted her. Glancing back down at the black dragoness, he saw that she had closed her eyes and was breathing shallow and quick. Fearful for her life, Spyro resolved to finish this fight as soon as he could. He nuzzled her cheek reassuringly again, prompting her to open her eyes.

"All right," he told her, trying to sound confident, "I'll break it. Just…just hold on. I'll get you to the infirmary as soon as I've dealt with him."

Wishing that the guardians were here to help, Spyro turned away from the injured dragoness and approached Flame once more. Flame stood frozen for a moment, staring at him, before suddenly racing forwards. But Spyro was ready for him. He slipped to the side as Flame lashed out at him, and swung his claws up to the base of his neck. He felt them glance off something hard and smooth, like the surface of a gem, and watched in amazement as something flickered and appeared around Flame's neck. A necklet, just as Cynder had said, the colour of pale gold and slightly transparent.

"So there _is_ a necklet," Spyro smirked, and crouched as he prepared to strike at it again. Flame had frozen as still as a statue, making him the easiest target Spyro had ever had to aim for.

'_He's aiming for the necklet! He knows!' _yelped the voice at the back of Flame's head, shrill and panicky, _'Get out of there, Flame! Run! Run! I command you to run!'_

Flame had never run from a fight before, but he couldn't argue with that voice. Just as Spyro swung to strike the necklet with his claws, the red dragon spun away and took flight. Spyro's paw struck only air and he staggered to regain his balance, watching in amazement and confusion as Flame soared higher into the sky and winged quickly away. He dropped out of sight for a few moments when he flew over a tall building and dipped below the roof. But when Spyro saw him again he was just a speck in the distance, soaring away from the city.

Stunned by Flame's sudden departure, Spyro stood frozen for a few moments before he remembered Cynder. His heart hammering fearfully, he dashed back to the injured dragoness and gently nuzzled her neck. She made no response, but she was breathing. Relieved, but still fearful for his dragoness, Spyro bent low and pushed his head beneath Cynder's body. When she was draped limply across his back, Spyro took to the air and flew as quickly as he could towards the infirmary.

* * *

The guardians slept in that morning. They hadn't meant to, but the late meeting they'd had the night before had left them all rather tired. So, when the sun rose the next morning, they remained asleep in their rooms and unaware of the events that were soon to take place in the main courtyard. The screams and screeches from the courtyard barely penetrated the dreams of the guardians and their obnoxious snoring. Volteer was the first to awaken, startled by the sound of a guttural roar that he wasn't sure whether he'd dreamt or not.

The electricity guardian decided, after trying to remember what his dream had been about, to find Terrador and ask if he'd heard anything unusual. So, moments later, Volteer found himself outside his fellow guardian's room, whose snores were carrying through the door. Volteer knocked hesitantly, rapping his claws against the smooth surface of the wooden door, and waited for an answer. The snores stopped abruptly and there was the sound of a large dragon struggling to his feet. Seconds later the door swung inwards and Terrador appeared, looking half asleep.

"What is it, Volteer?" he asked wearily, as though this was not an uncommon occurrence.

The tip of Volteer's tail quivered anxiously, "Did you hear that peculiar noise just now?"

"Noise, Volteer?" Terrador asked, clearly wishing he was still asleep.

"A roar," Volteer explained eagerly, "so deep that it resonated like the tolling of the bells!"

Terrador replied with a sceptical look, "Are you sure you didn't dream it, Volteer?"

Volteer hesitated, "That is the question. Just recently I perceived an unusual sound that aroused me from my slumber. But I cannot distinguish whether I had dreamt it. I came hoping you may have perceived the same noise…"

Terrador sighed wearily, "I heard nothing, Volteer. It was a dream. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep…"

The earth guardian was just about to close the door when Volteer reminded him of something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Hadn't we better send out that search for young Flame?"

Terrador's eyes widened and he uttered a quiet curse under his breath, furious with himself for forgetting. Brushing Volteer aside, Terrador swept out of his room and made his way towards the common room that joined the guardian sleeping quarters. The electricity guardian followed eagerly.

In the common room, they found Hunter sprawled out over a set of multicoloured cushions in front of the fire, his head thrown back and a paw over his eyes. From his deep and even breathing, and the occasional snore, they could tell he was asleep. Terrador strode towards the sleeping cheetah, preparing to wake him up, but the instant he approached, Hunter's eyes snapped open. The warrior cheetah had a sixth sense that stopped most creatures from being able to sneak up on him.

"Something wrong, Terrador?" Hunter asked, sitting up and automatically reaching for his bow.

"Nothing serious, Hunter. We merely slept in," Terrador looked vaguely annoyed. "Wake the other guardians and meet us outside in a few minutes. There's a young dragon we need to find."

"Of course," The cheetah stood up, smoothing his clothes and shouldering his bow. He nodded respectfully to Volteer and then strode off towards Cyril's room.

Terrador strode towards the door, muttering, "Today was not a good day to sleep in."

"It never is," was Volteer's reply, as he followed Terrador outside.

Stepping outside, Terrador was thinking vaguely of finding willing dragons to send out searching for Flame, when a sight met his eyes that drove the young red dragon out of his mind completely. Not to far away he saw Spyro soaring towards the infirmary, an unmistakable black dragoness draped limply across his back. Terrador instantly assumed the worst, and his heart dropped like a stone.

"Great ancestors," he breathed, paling behind his bright green scales.

"Terrador?" Volteer clearly hadn't seen what the earth guardian had.

But Terrador had already started to run in the direction of the infirmary, and yelled back over his shoulder at the confused electricity guardian.

"Tell the others to come to the infirmary! Be quick!"

And with that he was gone, leaving a very confused Volteer staring after him wondering just what had happened.

The moles were flustered by the time Terrador burst into the infirmary. Spyro was standing to the side, looking very anxious, as several moles crowded around a bed of cushions, blocking whoever it was that lay upon it.

"Red crystals!" snapped one of the moles and two of his assistants dashed away instantly, only to return seconds later with armfuls of crimson gems.

Spyro chewed his lip anxiously, his body very tense as he watched the proceedings. He looked up in surprise when Terrador lumbered through the door of the infirmary, looking extremely concerned.

"Spyro," the earth guardian gasped, out of breath from his swift run to the infirmary. "What has happened? I saw you…flying… is Cynder all right?"

Spyro opened his mouth to reply, slightly stunned by Terrador's sudden appearance, but one of the moles beat him to it.

"She'll be fine," stated the mole, placing gems around the lacerations in Cynder's back. "Her injuries are not as bad as they look."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Spyro breathed a sigh of relief and watched as Cynder's wounds healed over. But Terrador was far from satisfied. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

"What happened, Spyro?" the earth guardian insisted, catching his breath. "Tell me what happened. How did Cynder come to be injured?"

Spyro turned his lavender eyes on Terrador, slightly surprised by the urgency in his voice. Was the situation really that serious? From the way the earth guardian was acting, it certainly seemed so.

"It was Flame," Spyro admitted gruffly, glaring at his own paws, and Terrador felt his heart drop.

"What happened?" he breathed, his voice quivering with trepidation.

His eyes still on Cynder, Spyro recounted what had occurred in the courtyard between him, Flame and Cynder. But he halted when he tried to find words to describe the way he had lost control and turned into his darker self. Part of him wondered if Terrador knew about that darker half. He had seen it, but did he understand it?

"Spyro?" Terrador prompted, when the purple dragon had been silent for a while.

Spyro blinked and shook his head roughly, giving Terrador an apologetic look. How could he explain the darkness that took over his body and mind, and turned him into a beast that loved to kill; a beast excited by the blood of his enemies? An involuntary shudder passed through Spyro. He could still taste Flame's blood on his tongue, and it disturbed him how excited his darker half had become upon tasting that blood.

"When I fought Flame I…" Spyro gulped, shuddering at the memories of the sick pleasure he'd drawn from seeing Flame in pain, "Well, I…I lost control…"

Terrador stared at him, "What do you mean, Spyro?"

Spyro stared at his paws, "Terrador, there's…there's a…a darkness inside of me that I…can't control. It comes out whenever I feel angry, or even in times of great sorrow, and I can't control it. It makes me want to…to make my enemies feel pain, to see their blood…it makes me want to _kill_! And it's not something I can control! I killed Gaul because of it, in cold blood, and I could have killed Flame today if Cynder hadn't been there…"

He trailed off with a sigh and watched as the moles inspected the black dragoness for further wounds. They seemed satisfied and several of them carried the remaining gems away. Terrador considered Spyro with pity and sympathy shining in his emerald eyes. He placed a reassuring claw on the young dragon's shoulder.

"You are a good dragon, Spyro," he reassured him, "and you know that as well as I do. We all have a darkness inside us, every one of us. In times when we are angry, or sad, it may cause us to do things we would otherwise not. Even if yours is a little stronger than most, Spyro, you can control it. You are a good dragon at heart, and you would never kill another dragon in cold blood. You know that Spyro. You just need to believe it."

Spyro heaved a sigh and nodded in response, but Terrador could tell that the young dragon wasn't completely convinced. But, regardless, now was not the time to discuss such things. Something had to be done about Flame.

"Now, tell me what happened to Flame," Terrador prompted gently.

Still gazing at the unconscious form of Cynder, Spyro continued his narration of the events in the courtyard. He spoke of how Cynder brought him back to his senses, and about the necklet that Flame had been in possession of. He spoke of their concern that Flame may be possessed by that piece of jewellery, of his odd actions during the fight, and the way he had suddenly fled when Spyro had tried to attack the necklet. To Terrador, it was a very strange tale.

"He flew away, just like that?" Terrador questioned, at the exact moment that the doors to the infirmary burst open.

Spyro and Terrador spun around in time to see the other guardians, led by Hunter, hurry flustered through the doors of the infirmary. They were all looking extremely alarmed and confused, but Terrador raised a paw before any of them could speak, and shook his head.

"I'll explain in a moment," he told them, and turned back to Spyro. "You say he ran away, Spyro?"

The purple dragon nodded, "Right, and Flame never runs from a fight. It's almost like…well, almost like he was forced to. But I don't know why or what could force him to run."

Spyro shrugged, completely at a loss. The other confused guardians didn't understand at all what was going on, and turned to Terrador for an explanation. After pondering the mystery for a few moments, Terrador resigned himself to repeating Spyro's tale to the rest of the guardians. While he was talking, however, Spyro was focusing on Cynder. She was limp and unconscious, but her wounds were completely healed and she looked as though she'd never even fought Flame.

The drone of Terrador's voice continued in the background as Spyro looked over the black dragoness. She was breathing evenly, as though in deep sleep, her sleek body spread out over several, different-coloured cushions. Light from the windows crept across the floor and caused her black scales to glisten like obsidian, dazzling Spyro. Even in her unconscious state, Spyro couldn't help but notice her beauty. A blush rose to his scales at these thoughts, but it was soon banished from his mind when Cynder began to stir.

Her eyelids flickered and her paws twitched, and Spyro heard her grumble softly as she awoke from her slumber. Relief swept through his body, and he shifted closer to her as he waited for her to wake. Cynder's emerald eyes opened slowly and she blinked a few times before her head shot up and her eyes widened in alarm. But the instant she saw Spyro standing safe and well beside her, the panicked hammering of her heart slowed down. He smiled gently and nuzzled her snout softly, causing her to purr with contentment.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, licking his cheek affectionately.

He blushed, "Better than you. You were cut up pretty badly…I was worried."

A smile crept onto her face and she nuzzled him reassuringly, "I'm fine now, Spyro. I guess the moles fixed me up?"

Spyro nodded and Cynder's expression suddenly became serious. She didn't seem to notice the guardians who were conversing quietly a little way away.

"What happened to Flame?" she asked anxiously, her eyes searching Spyro's expression for answers.

"He ran away," Spyro replied, to her surprise, "just when I started to attack that necklet, like you said. I think maybe he was afraid that I might break it."

Cynder's brow furrowed in thought, "That would make sense, or…"

She dropped her voice to an almost whisper, as though afraid someone might be listening, "Maybe whoever was _controlling_ him was afraid that you might break it."

Spyro's eyes widened and he whispered back just as quietly, "You're right! Have I told you how much of a genius you are?"

"Once," Cynder winked, grinning, and was suddenly cut off when Spyro pressed his lips to hers. She didn't argue, merely closing her eyes and enjoying the moment.

But their moment was interrupted all too soon when Terrador cleared his throat loudly and caught their attention. Blushing, Spyro stepped away from Cynder and glanced up at the earth guardian, who was looking mighty awkward at having interrupted them. Hunter was grinning behind his paw, no doubt pleased that the two dragons had finally admitted their feelings to one another. He had a feeling that Sparx would be pleased too, even if he wouldn't show it.

"Ahem," Terrador coughed, breaking the awkward silence, "Spyro, regarding Flame, I think we all agree with your suggestion that something, or someone, may be controlling him. But can either of you think of anyone who might want to do such a thing?"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged glances, but neither could think of anyone that might possibly want to control Flame. Malefor? But he was dead; they had made sure of that. The apes were gone too, turned into nothing but spectres by Malefor's wrath, cursed to wander the darkness forever. Perhaps the grublins had something to do with it. But they seemed far too stupid to think up something complex like that. Shrugging, Spyro could only shake his head.

"Sorry, Terrador, I really don't know," Spyro admitted, and Cynder nodded in agreement.

Defeated, Terrador could only sigh. He turned a hopeless glance to the other three guardians, as though in the slim hope that they might have the answer. But they were looking equally as stumped. No one seemed to have any idea who or what could be controlling Flame, or why. It was Thasos who had the most helpful suggestion, although it wasn't much.

"Perhaps," sighed the old orange dragon, turning his sad brown eyes to the unconscious Ember, "Ember may have an idea. She knows Flame better than any of us."

"Indeed," Cyril sniffed, glancing at the pink dragoness, "perhaps she knows."

"I suppose all that's left to do is to wait until she awakens," Terrador sighed, defeated. There wasn't much more they could do.

In silence the guardians, Hunter, and the young dragons pondered the mystery until the entrance of a yellow dragonfly caught their attention. He flew into the infirmary from the window, glanced curiously at the small crowd around Ember and Cynder, and looked immediately to Spyro.

"So," he asked, grinning, "what did I miss?"

**A/N: Twenty chapters! Ooooh Dark Spyro. You were expecting that, weren't you? Be patient with Alta, he's not an evil mastermind; more like a naive young dragon who doesn't really know what he's doing. You'll learn more about him soon enough. **

**Guess what? If everything goes to plan, there's only seven more chapters left of this story. :) Does that make you happy or sad? Personally, I can't wait to finish it. I've never actually finished a story before (Gasp!), so this is really a first for me. I hope everyone is enjoying it so far! I keep forgetting about Sparx and adding him in at the last moment... Thank you for the reviews! I love you all! And thanks for reading. ^.^**


	21. Waking Up

**21. Waking Up**

It was dark in the caverns, with only the flickering light of the torches on the walls to illuminate the rock and stone. It was here that Flame and Alta had returned after the former's quelling defeat at the claws of the purple dragon. Alta was enraged, furious that the red dragon hadn't been able to fulfil the mission he'd been assigned. Now he paced backwards and forwards in the cavern, bristling with anger, as Flame sat watching him with blank eyes.

"You failed," Alta spat, turning icy eyes on him. "You didn't kill the purple dragon. You didn't even manage to _scratch_ him! I sent you there to destroy him, not the other way around! After all the trouble I went to…and you couldn't even kill one measly—little—DRAGON!"

Flame made no response as Alta roared in his face, spraying his scales with spittle. Snorting, Alta turned away and breathed slowly in and out, calming his raging anger. He glanced sidelong at Flame again, who was staring blankly ahead as though made of stone. He didn't seem bothered by his wounds, but Alta certainly was. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as the red dragon's blood soaked into the stone beneath him, ruining one of the patterns that Alta had previously painted on the floor.

"I overestimated you," he grumbled, glaring at Flame, "and I underestimated that purple dragon. Who knew he held such power? No, I didn't know…I didn't know."

Scowling, Alta continued muttering softly to himself until his gaze snapped suddenly towards the injured red dragon. There was a furious glint shining in his icy-blue eyes, his expression becoming increasingly agitated.

"Would you quit bleeding everywhere?" Alta snapped suddenly, his voice rising a few octaves in what sounded like indignant outrage. "You're ruining my paintings!"

Flame turned his empty golden eyes on the grey dragon, but said nothing. Breathing heavily between clenched teeth, Alta jerked his head away from the dragon that was infuriating him and stalked towards one of the several tunnels that led away from this cavern. Flame's eyes watched him emotionlessly until Alta snapped an order at him.

"Come with me," he growled sharply, flicking his deadly tailblade in impatience.

Flame did as he was commanded, standing up shakily and causing more of his blood to spill from his wounds and splash upon the rocks. He made no sound but for the uneven thudding of his paws as he limped after Alta. The sound of his footsteps echoed hauntingly around the cavern as he stepped into the darkness of the tunnel.

Alta led him into an adjacent cavern, a cavern illuminated by the glowing red light of a hoard of crimson gems that sprung from the walls, ceiling and floor. Like odd stalactites and stalagmites, the clusters of gems stretched from the floor and the ceiling in vain attempts to connect with each other. Those growing from the walls spread out horizontally like crimson fingers reaching desperately towards the other side of the cavern. Their dim, ghostly light bathed the rest of the cavern in a bloody hue. It reflected off Alta's pale scales and made him appear a pale red colour, rather than his natural grey.

Had Flame been in his right mind, he would have been awed by the incredible sight. But in the state he was, he merely stood in apathy and observed as he waited for his next order. Alta gazed around at the crystals, his eyes glowing appreciatively as though he'd almost forgotten of their existence and that seeing them had greatly pleased him. Approaching the nearest cluster that reached towards the ceiling, Alta turned and looked expectantly at Flame.

"Break it," he ordered shortly, stepping aside and watching.

Flame obeyed without a word, limping forwards and swinging a hefty paw at the clump of crystals. It was amazing how easily it shattered beneath his claws, reminding the dragons that, behind its falsely strong appearance, it was as fragile as glass. The shattered pieces of crystal spilled over the rock and Flame stood frozen amongst them, waiting for something to happen. Then, as though they were inexplicably attracted to the red dragon, the gems shot towards him and soaked like liquid into his scales.

For several minutes this continued, until his whole body glowed like the gems themselves. His wounds were beginning to heal, his scales knitting themselves together, the ugly acid burn on his shoulder disappearing.

Through the whole process, Flame remained as stiff and silent as a stone, and Alta watched with the mildest interest. At last the glow around Flame died away, leaving the young dragon as fit and healthy as if he'd never even fought Spyro and Cynder. Alta glanced over him, checking for any wounds that remained, but found none. Seemingly satisfied, Alta ordered Flame to follow him once more, and strode swiftly out of the crystal cavern.

The red glow from the cavern faded as they walked away, and Alta's scales returned to their familiar dull grey as he and Flame returned to the larger cavern. Alta wrinkled his snout, disgusted by the puddles of Flame's blood that still glimmered on the cavern floor. But there was nothing he could do to save the paintings that had already been stained by the red liquid.

"Perhaps it was not such a good idea," Alta mused, turning his gaze to Flame, "sending you to destroy Spyro. I should have known a regular dragon like you could never defeat the purple dragon of prophecy."

A bitter look crossed Alta's face, and he repeated the word as though it was poison on his tongue, "_Prophecy_…"

He hissed disapprovingly and silently began to circle the red dragon, who had sat down and was staring ahead with that same blank look. There was an odd expression glimmering in Alta's eyes, of bitterness and superiority, of something akin to jealously and yet entirely different. His paws made almost no sound as he circled Flame like a beast stalking its prey.

"Oh yes…prophecy," he repeated bitterly, screwing up his snout. "How little those fools…"

He stopped himself and scowled at the wall, before muttering softly, "If only they knew…"

But he said no more on the matter and turned his gaze to Flame again, who hadn't moved an inch. Alta shifted closer to him, moving his snout closer to his head, and hissed.

"I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, believing you could do it." He sighed and sat back, observing the red dragon. "But you seemed so eager, so… so _murderous_. And I've seen you fight, Flame, oh I've seen it all through your eyes. And you're so much _stronger _than the average dragon; I thought…well, I thought you could do it."

Alta tiptoed carefully closer to Flame, until their snouts were almost touching, his icy-blue eyes burning like blue fire into the empty, golden tunnels that were Flame's eyes. The dim firelight from the torches on the walls crept over their scales, flickering unevenly and causing the whites of Alta's eyes to glow orange.

"But you failed," Alta whispered, and even his soft voice echoed throughout the cavern like the whisperings of spirits. "You _failed. _Who was I to expect such great things from you? An average dragon like you…no, I shouldn't have had such high expectations."

His last word hung in the air for several seconds, echoing so quietly that it could barely be heard. Flame made no move, emitted no sound, and gave no indication that he had even heard Alta's words. But the grey dragon didn't seem to notice. With a flick of his tail, he turned his back on Flame and strode towards the farthest tunnel with determination in his confident stride. He paused at the mouth of the tunnel and looked back expectantly, waiting for Flame to follow.

"No matter," Alta said suddenly, his eyes suddenly glowing like twin flames. "A minor setback. It looks like we'll be moving on to the second stage of the plan sooner than expected. But no matter, no matter."

As Flame approached him, he turned and entered the dark tunnel. He walked slowly for the first few strides, allowing Flame to catch up and walk alongside him. His head held high and confident, Alta spoke openly of his thoughts.

"I'd wanted to get rid of that meddling purple dragon first, stop him from getting in the way, but I see now that there is no chance of such a thing," he glanced upwards at the ceiling. "There's no time for hesitation. I won't be like my foolish parents…"

His eyes flashed angrily, an ugly look of bitterness passing across his face, "…torn apart by apes, and my brother, too… They were fools. They were all fools."

Oblivious to the unresponsive Flame, Alta continued his bitter musings as they walked the length of the tunnel, "The time for planning is over. It's time to proceed, time to…_succeed_. And you're going to help me, Flame."

He turned a wild grin on the red dragon, halting suddenly although the end of the tunnel was so near that the light from the next cavern could be seen creeping over the rocks. Flame halted too, stopping next to Alta and turning those empty, golden eyes upon him.

"You couldn't kill Spyro for me," Alta said, eyes glowing eagerly, "so I have no choice but to kill him myself. And not just him, but _all _of Warfang. I won't do it alone, though…no. You see, Flame…"

He had begun to walk again, leading Flame towards the flickering light at the end of the tunnel. The red dragon followed closely and halted suddenly, the briefest expression of wonderment crossing his face at the sight that met him and Alta upon stepping out of the tunnel. They stood upon a narrow ledge far above the floor of the massive cavern they had stepped into. Torches were placed around the walls, turning the stone the colour of molten gold, and illuminating the sea of creatures that screeched and howled below them.

Grublins, hundreds of them, covered the floor of the cavern below them, some waving crude weapons in the air and screeching at the tops of their lungs. Alta surveyed them from the ledge, his eyes shining with triumph, and spread his ivory wings. The grublins howled louder in response, filling the cavern with ghostly echoes of their cries. Flame stared, his blank eyes showing the slightest hint of emotion for the first time, but said nothing when Alta turned to him.

"…_this_," Alta grinned, his scales glowing gold in the firelight, "is our army."

* * *

It was almost dark. For the last hours of daylight, Spyro and Cynder had remained in the infirmary, watching over the comatose pink dragoness. Their plans to spend the day together exploring the wide city of Warfang had been ruined by Flame's sudden attack, and they remained indoors in the fear that he may return and target them again. Cynder was afraid because she never wanted to see Spyro in his Dark state again, and Spyro feared that Flame would once again harm his beloved dragoness. But neither voiced these fears as they sat in anxious silence and watched Sparx flit around the room in a fit of impatience and boredom.

The infirmary was empty of all but the three dragons and the yellow dragonfly, though the mole in charge of the building was currently shut up in a room that Spyro perceived to be his office. It was very quiet in the room, and outside it was becoming darker and darker as the onslaught of night approached. Spyro yawned as tiredness overtook his body, and Cynder did the same as she snuggled closer to the purple dragon and nuzzled beneath his wing. Only Sparx seemed unaffected by the fatigue that was settling in on the room. Indeed, he continued buzzing around over their heads like a moving lantern that refused to be still.

The two dragons were almost asleep, snuggled together on a bed of cushions next to Ember, when an odd sound came from the pink dragoness. It was a muffled snuffling, like a feeble fit of coughing escaping from her lips. Spyro opened his eyes and stared, shaking off his tiredness, but didn't get up. Instead he waited, unsure whether he had imagined the noise.

Ember was completely still, unmoved from her previous position. Spyro was just about to close his eyes again, when she began to cough again, louder this time and with more force. Lilac eyes widening, Spyro withdrew his wing from Cynder's back and stood up. Cynder cracked open an eye, clearly having been woken from a half slumber.

"What…?" Cynder began to ask, but was cut off by another fit of coughing from the pink dragoness. Alarmed, the black dragoness stood up too.

"Hush," Spyro whispered to her, edging closer to Ember, who was now beginning to twitch and moan in her sleep.

Cynder nodded quickly, staring at the comatose dragoness. Another cough escaped her lips, and she groaned feebly as her eyelids quivered. Spyro's eyes widened hopefully, and Sparx had stopped his impatient flitting to watch. Ember's eyes flickered open suddenly, though they seemed oddly out of focus, and she blinked a few times before expelling another dry cough. She frowned, her eyes coming slowly into focus, and made a move as though to push herself up. Spyro's eyes lit up.

"Ember!" he cried, startling the pink dragoness who hadn't even noticed his presence.

"W-what…S-Spyro?" she coughed again, took a shaky breath, and stared in confusion at the purple dragon.

Looking elated, Spyro turned swiftly to the yellow dragonfly hovering over his head, "Sparx! Go tell the guardians!"

"Gotcha!" Sparx saluted smartly, grinned at the two dragonesses, and zipped out the door faster than their eyes could follow.

Ember looked as stunned and confused as any young dragon could be, her eyes roving around the room in utter bewilderment. She must have noticed she wasn't in her room, for she soon turned to Spyro and asked, "Where are we?"

"The infirmary," Cynder answered, beating Spyro to it, although she too was surprised by Ember's sudden recovery.

Ember's blue eyes widened in alarm, "Infirmary? But why? Is someone hurt…?"

And all of a sudden it seemed as though her memories returned in a rush. Alarm and fear crossed her face and she would have leapt to her feet if she'd had the strength, but instead her head just shot up and her voice became very shrill.

"Oh no, Flame, Spyro!" she yelped, recalling quite suddenly the events of the western courtyard. "The fireball! Spyro, you…Flame…I…! Where's Flame, what happened to Flame? And the fireball! And you! And _me_!"

"Easy now, Ember," Spyro soothed, smiling slightly and sitting down opposite her. "You're a little behind on the times. Just let me explain."

Ember hesitated, clearly both confused and fearful, but she soon nodded and waited to hear what Spyro had to say. Cynder settled down next to him, her paws folded in front of her chest.

"You remember what happened in the courtyard?" Spyro asked gently, and Ember nodded slowly.

"Flame attacked you," she mumbled, looking down as though ashamed of her friend's actions, "like he was trying to kill you. And he…he shot a fireball at you…and…"

She frowned, trying to remember what had happened next, "I…wanted to help you. I didn't know if I could get to you on time… I…I ran…"

Ember faltered, confused, and shook her head, unable to recall anything beyond that point. Spyro knew it was time to fill in the blanks. Knowing the knowledge might disturb and frighten Ember, Spyro told her as gently as he could.

"The fireball didn't hit me, Ember," he murmured, his lilac eyes observing her sadly, "it hit _you_."

Her blue eyes opened so wide that Spyro could see his image reflected in them. She looked too stunned to speak, and only managed to stutter incoherently.

"I…I…me…?"

Spyro nodded slowly, "You reached me on time. It was you that took the blast. It was you who saved me. You've been in the infirmary ever since."

Ember swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, her eyes burning with hot tears. As overwhelmed as she was, the young dragoness only managed to choke out two words.

"How long?" she gulped, blinking furiously and trembling.

"Almost two days," Spyro responded solemnly. "You've been unconscious. We…we thought that you…that you wouldn't make it…"

The purple dragon trailed off, his eyes betraying his anxieties, and Ember opened her mouth to respond. But whatever she was about to say was lost as the door crashed suddenly open for the second time that day, and the guardians came lumbering in to the infirmary. Only, this time they were looking no less than elated. Thasos, especially, looked happier than Spyro had ever seen him. Hunter was accompanying the guardians as usual, as was Seriphos, and both looked immensely relieved at the recovery of the young pink dragoness.

"Ember, you're awake!" Thasos beamed, his brown eyes shining with emotion.

"Thank the ancestors," Terrador added, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly.

"Indeed, indeed, it's simply wonderful, marvellous, excellent, splendid—!" Volteer rattled off, tripping over his own tongue in his excitement.

"Quite," Cyril sniffed, cutting Volteer off before he could continue his long list of synonyms. "It is indeed pleasing to see you awake, young dragoness."

Seriphos smiled warmly at the stunned dragoness, "We were worried."

Ember stared up at them, unsure whether to feel flattered or concerned that everyone was suddenly taking such an interest in her. Had her injuries really been that bad? She didn't even remember taking the hit for Spyro; it was all a blur. But all the guardians were making such a fuss over her that she couldn't help but wonder just how serious her situation had been. She was about to speak when Thasos beat her to it.

"No doubt you're a little confused about what's going on?" he asked kindly.

But Ember glanced at Spyro and answered, "It's okay, Spyro's told me what happened… Have I really been unconscious for almost two days?"

The guardians nodded simultaneously, and Ember glanced nervously at Spyro. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to ask, but he waited for her to speak nonetheless.

"…How bad was it?" the pink dragoness asked softly, her claws curling inwards to pierce the cushion she lay upon.

Spyro sighed, unsure whether to tell her or not, and looked helplessly to Terrador as though asking for permission. The earth guardian nodded solemnly, not saying a word. Ember stared anxiously at the purple dragon, willing him to speak and yet afraid of the answer.

"You…you almost died, Ember," Spyro sighed at last, meeting her eyes.

Ember's breath caught in her throat as she stared in disbelief at Spyro, hardly daring to believe that he was telling the truth. But his eyes were so solemn, his expression so sombre, that Ember realised he could not possibly be lying. She looked down and, for the first time, caught a glimpse of the discoloured scar tissue in the centre of her chest. She had almost…_died_? A cold shiver crossed her scales and she shook her body to rid herself of the feeling.

"Ember…?" Spyro asked uncertainly, worried by her silence.

She looked up at him, noticed his worried expression, and reassured him with a strained smile. But that smile disappeared almost instantly as a new thought entered her mind. She glanced around at all the dragons around her, aware that one was missing – the one who had injured her. Swallowing nervously, Ember glanced up at the guardians.

"Where is Flame?" she asked, her voice quivering.

They hesitated, exchanging anxious glances that only made Ember's anxieties worse. She stared desperately at them, recognising their hesitation to answer her question.

"Where is Flame?" she tried again, raising her voice this time. "Tell me!"

Terrador hesitated momentarily, "Ember, about Flame, he's…"

"What?" Ember cried when Terrador paused. "What is it? What's happened to him?"

At this point, Spyro cut in, "He's not in the city any more."

Ember snapped her gaze to the purple dragon, eyes wide with disbelief, "What do you…what do you mean he's not…? W-Where is he?"

She was struggling to get up now, but Hunter intervened. The cheetah knelt in front of her and placed a soothing paw on her shoulder, pushing her gently back down onto the cushions.

"You shouldn't try to get up," he told the young dragoness. "Just listen to the guardians. They will explain."

Ember stared at him for a few moments, and then nodded hesitantly. She glanced desperately at Terrador for an explanation, and the earth guardian realised he had no choice. Ember needed to know.

"After the fight between he and Spyro in the courtyard, Flame fled the city," Terrador sighed, looking away from Ember as though unable to meet her eyes. "That is to say…we chased him away from the city…"

Ember felt as though her heart had just plummeted several inches, robbing her of breath. She swallowed hard and glanced fearfully at every dragon present, including Hunter who was kneeling alongside her. But no one contradicted Terrador's statement, and Ember suddenly felt very cold.

"You…you…" she stuttered, unable to find the words she wanted to say. "You chased him…?"

As though her mind had just clicked, Ember suddenly sat bolt upright and cried, "Well, then where is he? We have to find him! He could be hurt or…or…!"

"Hold on," Spyro cut her off, and she turned desperately to him, "we're not finished yet. Terrador, let me explain this."

The earth guardian stared hard at Spyro and nodded his consent. Well aware that Ember wouldn't take well to hearing her friend spoken of badly, Spyro chose his words very carefully.

"Flame came back earlier today," Spyro began hesitantly, thinking hard of a way to tell her what happened without it sound too bad, "He…ran into Cynder in the gardens and… Well, he attacked her."

Ember's face paled slightly, "No…"

Spyro continued before she could say anything else, "Cynder was injured quite badly when I got there. And Flame was…standing over her. I knew he'd done it the moment I saw him…"

Ember was staring at him in horror, shaking her head slowly. "N-No…he wouldn't…"

"Needless to say, I attacked him," Spyro continued, trying not to notice the horrified expression in her eyes. "I fought him but…but he wasn't acting like himself. We think he was being…controlled by something…or someone."

"Flame…controlled…?" Ember squeaked, her voice rising a few octaves, her eyes filling with salty tears.

Spyro nodded slowly, "There was something around his neck. It was like a ring, a necklet, and when I tried to attack it…Flame fled."

"H-He's gone?"

Again, Spyro nodded, "He ran away. We don't know where he went."

Ember stared at him for a few moments, horrified, clearly trying to think of a way to deny what she had just heard. Her eyes shifted desperately to Cynder, who was curled up next to Spyro, watching Ember like a cat. From what Ember could see, the black dragoness was completely fine.

"N-No, he wouldn't do that!" Ember cried suddenly, her voice breaking. "Flame wouldn't do that! I know him! I know he wouldn't do something like that!"

Spyro eyes were filled with anguish, "Ember, I know it's not what you wanted to hear…but I saw it with my own eyes…"

"NO!" Ember cried loudly, tears breaking and spilling over her pale pink cheeks. "He wouldn't! You said he hurt Cynder, but—but, she's fine! See?"

She gestured desperately at the black dragoness, but Cynder only stared sympathetically at her and corrected her.

"The moles healed me, using red crystals," she murmured, leaning her head against Spyro's shoulder. "I was lucky."

Ember stared at her, trembling, "N-No…he wouldn't…"

She turned her watery blue eyes on the guardians, soundlessly begging them to contradict Spyro's words. But the guardians only stared sympathetically at her, unable to find any words of comfort for her.

"He wouldn't do that!" Ember cried, struggling upright despite Hunter's restraining paw, "You know him! I know him! You know he wouldn't do that! Flame wouldn't hurt someone on purpose! H-He wouldn't…"

A sob escaped her lips as fat tears rolled down her cheeks and suddenly she threw herself into the cushion beneath her, pressing her paws to her face. Sobs racked her body as her tears soaked into the cushion, and Hunter could only stroke her back comfortingly. The guardians averted their eyes, ashamed that they were unable to even offer a word of comfort to the distraught young dragoness.

"I know," Spyro murmured suddenly, quietly. "I know he'd never do something like that on purpose."

Ember raised her head to stare at him, tears spilling unchecked from her eyes, hardly daring to believe what she'd just heard. Spyro stared sadly at her, but there was a glint of determination in his lilac eyes.

"I don't believe Flame did those things on his own terms," Spyro continued, and everyone had stopped to listen, even Sparx who had been hanging back behind the guardians.

"Flame was—is—being controlled by someone," the purple dragon never looked away from Ember's tear-stained face, "and I don't blame him for what he's done. I want to help him."

Sniffling, Ember raised a paw to wipe away the tears that had settled on her cheeks, "D-Do you mean that?"

Spyro nodded, as did Cynder and Hunter, and the pink dragoness turned her eyes to the guardians. They offered her strained smiles and they, too, nodded.

"We all want to help Flame," Terrador reassured her, "we just need to figure out how."

Relief swept through Ember and her tears stopped flowing as she stopped sobbing. She glanced thankfully at all those around her, pleased that they were all standing by Flame, pleased that her friend wasn't being blamed. But there was an underlying feeling of guilt weighing on her heart—something she needed to confess.

"Ember, is there anything you wish to tell us?" Thasos asked, as though he was reading her mind. "Anything that may help us to help Flame?"

The pink dragoness glanced at the expectant faces surrounding her and knew it was the time to tell the truth. She bowed her head, out of shame perhaps, and guilt, and murmured a quiet 'yes'. Gently, Terrador prompted her to speak.

"What is it, Ember?"

Guiltily, Ember glanced upwards at the guardians and spoke, "That day when I snuck out after Spyro and Seriphos…I wasn't alone. Flame was with me."

The effect was instantaneous. The guardians exchanged triumphant yet grim glances, Spyro looked mildly surprised, and Seriphos crowed triumphantly, "I knew it!"

Ember hesitated, looking anxiously up at them, but they didn't seem at all angry with her. In fact, they seemed eager for her to tell them all that had happened.

"I snuck him out of his room when Sestos wasn't looking, and we ran away together," Ember admitted. "We caught up with Spyro beyond the dam. They were fighting grublins and I wanted to help them. But Flame was afraid of getting caught, and he refused to help."

"Yes, he's a stubborn one, that Flame," Thasos grumbled, but fell quiet when the other guardians shot him impatient looks.

Ember continued, "I left Flame hiding in the trees, and went to help Spyro myself. They took me back to Warfang, but I didn't see Flame following. He must have followed though, because…"

"Because I found him," Sparx finished, puffing his small chest out importantly.

The guardians exchanged glances, and Terrador voiced what they were all thinking.

"Flame didn't return for quite a while after Spyro did," the earth guardian pondered. "What could have taken him so long?"

"Perhaps he stayed behind to explore the grublin camp by himself," Cyril suggested, and Volteer nodded swiftly in agreement.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case," Thasos admitted.

"Could something have happened to him there?" Seriphos wondered.

Terrador exchanged a dark glance with his former student, "Perhaps. Maybe Flame didn't realise something had happened to him and he returned just in time for Sparx to find him."

"Then the grublins might have done something to him?" Spyro asked, standing up eagerly. "Cynder, remember the necklaces? The ones that joined us together? The grublins must have given us those, so what if they gave Flame that necklet?"

Cynder's emerald eyes widened, "You're right! Why didn't we think of that sooner?"

Eagerly, Spyro turned to Terrador, "We need to explore the old grublin camp! There may be clues there—anything that could help us figure out where Flame is and where the grublins have gone!"

"And if it is the grublins who gave him that necklet," Cynder added grimly.

Ember stared in awe at the swift conversation that was being thrown backwards and forwards across the room. She had no idea how they could be coming up with these conclusions so fast, but if it helped Flame then she was all for it. Terrador hesitated as he gazed upon Spyro's eager face.

"I've already sent scouts out to explore the camp," the earth guardian admitted, "and they came back with nothing…"

"They didn't know what they were looking for!" Spyro argued. "Just let us try! We might find something! Right, Cynder?"

The black dragoness nodded quickly, "Exactly, it can't hurt to try. And it just might help."

The guardians looked anxiously at each other, but knew that the young dragons spoke the truth. If there was a chance that it might help Flame, then what was there to lose? At last, although it was against his better judgement, Terrador agreed.

"Very well, Spyro, Cynder," he sighed. "But it is late. Tomorrow you may go. But be _careful_! I don't want to lose you, too."

Spyro smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry, Terrador, we'll be fine. We want to help Flame, too."

"I'll go too!" Ember cried suddenly, startling everyone. "Flame's my friend! I want to help!"

But the guardians put an end to her hopes of joining Spyro and Cynder on their search.

"I'm afraid not, Ember," Thasos said grimly. "You've only just recovered from a very serious injury. It would be best if you rest for a few days."

Ember stared hopelessly at him, "But…"

"No buts," Thasos shook his head. "And I suggest you stay the rest of the night here, just in case."

Sighing, Ember bowed her head and unwillingly consented. Spyro smiled warmly at her, and nudged Cynder, whispering in her ear. The black dragoness nodded in response.

"We'll stay, too," Spyro told Ember, "to keep you company. It's kind of lonely in here at night."

Ember smiled gently at him, "Thanks, Spyro."

"Well," Terrador glanced out the window at the dark sky of night, "I think it's time we all retired to bed. Spyro and Cynder, you'd best get some rest. And you too, Ember, you need to regain your strength."

"Splendid idea, Terrador," Volteer agreed, stifling a yawn. "I could use a good sleep."

All in agreement, the guardians bade the young dragons good night and left the infirmary. Hunter bowed respectfully to Spyro, Cynder and Ember before following the guardians out. And, as Seriphos departed, the three young dragons and Sparx were left alone in the infirmary. They were silent for a while, and Spyro nestled down on a bed of cushions with Cynder at his side. The black dragoness was asleep in minutes, secure under the purple dragon's golden wing. Ember glanced at them.

"I'm glad you and Cynder are together again," she murmured, blushing slightly. "I was afraid I'd ruined your relationship…"

Spyro grinned at her, "It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad Cynder forgave me."

Behind his back Sparx was pulling a disgusted face and Ember couldn't help but giggle. Soon they all fell into silence, a silence that was only broken briefly by the old mole who had come out of his study and told them all off for not telling him that Ember was awake. When the mole was gone and the warm dome lights in the ceiling had stopped glowing for the night, the three dragons and one dragonfly fell into deep and peaceful slumber.

* * *

Alta dismissed the idea of attacking at night, insisting he needed to sleep and that Flame was in no condition for yet another fight. Not that Flame argued. He merely stood with that same blank look and watched as Alta yelled orders to the grublin army. The hideous army of creatures shrieked and screamed at Alta in response, and it was hard to know if they were arguing or agreeing with him. But Alta seemed pleased and the tiny part of Flame's mind that wasn't suppressed wondered if he knew how to speak the grublin language.

"Prepare yourselves!" Alta yelled for one last time to the screeching hoard. "We attack at dawn!"

With that done, Alta turned his back on the grublin army and led Flame back down the tunnel. The red dragon paused, giving the hoard below him one last glance, before following the grey dragon. They soon found themselves back in Alta's main cavern where the screeches and howls of the grublins could be heard echoing in the distance. Alta stood in the centre of the cavern, seemingly thinking about something, and turned his blue eyes on Flame.

"There's something I need to prepare before we rest," he claimed, and then beckoned with his tailblade. "Come with me."

The two young dragons strode through the maze of tunnels and caverns, along a route that Flame might have found familiar if he was back in his own mind. They walked in silence for the first few minutes, until Alta began to speak. He spoke to Flame as though the red dragon had his own mind and thoughts, as though he wasn't controlled.

"You're probably wondering why the grublins obey me," Alta guessed, glancing at Flame. "It's simple, really."

Flame didn't answer, walking silently beside the grey dragon and gazing at him with those empty tunnels of eyes. A smile tugged at Alta's lips; a wry smirk.

"The grublins ally with anyone who can promise them greatness…riches…even revenge," the grey dragon began to explain. "Malefor made them great promises. He promised to rid the world of dragons and give the grublins the run of the land. They would control all, spread their forces across the land, and become the greatest race alive. However…"

An odd glint flashed across Alta's eyes, something akin to amusement, "Malefor never delivered. Of course, _we_ know that his plan was to destroy the world. There would be nothing left for the grublins to rule. But _they_ firmly believe that Malefor would have delivered those things he promised. That is, if he hadn't been stopped. Now who is to blame for stopping the Dark Master? Who is to blame for halting the destruction of the dragon race?"

A wild look had entered Alta's eyes and he turned to Flame as though the red dragon had just provided the answer, "That's right! The purple dragon! _Spyro._"

"Spyro halted the Dark Master, stopped him, and without Malefor the grublins stood no chance," they stepped out into a smaller cavern, and Alta led the way into another tunnel. "They were pushed back from Warfang, chased into exile by the dragons of that mighty city."

The firelight flickered briefly across Alta's eyes. "They despise the purple dragon, the one who stopped the Dark Master, and they despise the dragons of Warfang."

"The grublins were promised greatness by Malefor, but instead they were chased into hiding, forced to cower here beneath the earth in fear of the race of dragons that the Dark Master had promised to destroy! They were promised everything, and they received _nothing_!"

Alta's grin appeared almost insane in the firelight. "They want revenge, Flame! And revenge is what I have promised them! And I've assured them that, unlike Malefor, I _will _deliver! They will have their revenge…"

The grey dragon halted at the mouth of a smaller cavern, one that Flame was most familiar with. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, his expression very bitter. Scowling, Alta stepped quietly into the cavern.

"I will set things right," he murmured, hate burning in his icy-blue eyes.

Not speaking a word, Flame followed Alta into the small cavern. Recognition crossed his face briefly as he gazed at the shelves, podiums and chests lined up around the walls. Articles of jewellery and armour glimmered in the flickering light. This was the cavern of artefacts, a place that Flame had been once before. Alta stood in the centre of the room, gazing around at the many artefacts that glimmered invitingly on the shelves. He seemed to be looking for something particular. Spotting something, Alta smirked and strode over to one of the shelves.

Flame watched expressionlessly as the grey dragon took a pair of anklets and clipped them around his forelegs. They were a silvery colour, engraved with unusual, spiky black markings. Alta glanced at the red dragon, noticing that he was watching.

"You can't expect me to fight the purple dragon alone, Flame." Alta grinned, turning away and spotting something on a podium across the room. "I wouldn't stand a chance. No, I'm going to need a little help. A little help from my ancestors, that is."

He took the delicate helmet from the podium, holding it ever so carefully in his paws, and placed it upon his head. It curved perfectly over his skull, the front tapering to a diamond-shaped point between his eyes, and was the colour of white gold. A silvery line stretched down the centre and seemed almost to glow. Satisfied, Alta turned his back on the empty podium and continued his search.

The next article he took was a transparent ring which appeared to be made from a clear gem. This he slipped onto his tail. The last item he found in a small chest near the back of the cavern. This pair of silver rings, decorated with electric blue markings, he slipped onto his larger pair of horns. They accentuated the colour of his eyes.

"There," Alta grinned, satisfied with his odd choice of armour. "That should do. Even Spyro will have trouble facing me with the power of _these _artefacts."

He glanced at Flame, who hadn't said a word and was still standing at the mouth of the cavern as though unsure what to do. An idea sprung into Alta's mind and he quickly turned to the shelf behind him, grabbing another set of anklets. He tossed them to Flame, who glanced at them in confusion.

"Put them on," Alta ordered, "they're set with red crystals. They should heal most small injuries within seconds. We can't have you getting beat up again, can we?"

Flame did as he was ordered, slipping all four of the anklets onto his legs. The red stones matched his crimson scales perfectly. Alta had begun to walk towards the tunnel again, no doubt finished with the artefacts in the room. He had what he wanted. Flame followed soundlessly, back through the maze of tunnels and caverns to Alta's decorated cave. The grey dragon curled up on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the several articles of armour he was wearing, and beckoned for Flame to do the same.

"We sleep," Alta said, stretching out as Flame curled up alongside to him. "Regain our strength. Tomorrow we attack Warfang and get our revenge on the purple dragon. Tomorrow…"

His blue eyes hardened like chips of ice as he laid his head upon the rocks, "I will fulfil _my _prophecy."

* * *

_Fire flickered in the corners of his vision, orange flames that seemed to be rising higher and higher. There were buildings burning, stone walls crumbling like dust, ash choking the air. There was only whiteness beyond, a great stretch of nothingness in the place of the sky and the city. All he could see were the buildings closest to him, crumbling slowly into nothing, and the growing flames pressing in. Warfang was burning._

_He stared, unable to move, unable to feel the heat of the fire, and watched. He wanted to help, but there was something stopping him from stepping forward. Suddenly, out of the flames, another creature appeared. A dragon. He was young and his blue eyes glimmered with false innocence. The fire reflected off his pale grey scales, but he didn't seem bothered by it—he smiled. Flames crept closer to the strange dragon, whoever he was, but he didn't move._

_Suddenly the smile fell from his face and was replaced by a look of bitter hatred, a look of cold accusation that pierced through the fire. A single tear rolled from his eye, dripping down his muzzle and falling to the earth. It shattered as though made of ice, smashing into thousands of glimmering particles upon the ground. Without warning the flames exploded, rising upwards, obscuring all vision with burning, blinding heat._

Spyro awoke with a start, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. Several times he had to blink before he realised where he was and that it had only been a dream. He was in the infirmary, Cynder curled peacefully next to him and Ember asleep on the cushions across from him. Taking deep breaths, Spyro calmed his hammering heart and glanced out the window.

Dawn was just breaking, the first rays of sun appearing on the horizon and filling the room with pale light. A snore from the top of his head told Spyro that Sparx had once again fallen asleep on his horn. He glanced at Cynder, who was still sleeping peacefully with her head on her paws.

Frowning, Spyro tried to remember what his dream had been about. The city had been burning and a strange grey dragon had appeared. He'd seemed happy about something at first, until his expression had changed. He'd glared accusingly at Spyro, as though Spyro had done something wrong, and shed a single tear. Spyro frowned. He'd never even met such a dragon, so who was he and what was he doing in his dream? Shaking his head, Spyro told himself that it was only a dream and nothing more.

'_What about those dreams you had before the Night of Eternal Darkness? Of the Mountain of Malefor?'_ asked a nasty little voice in his head, and Spyro chewed his lip anxiously.

But again he shook it off, '_No. I won't think like that. It was only a dream. It didn't mean anything._'

Yawning, Spyro stood up and stretched, spreading his wings and then furling them again. Sparx shifted on his horn and rolled off, but Spyro managed to catch him with a paw before he hit the ground. The little dragonfly grumbled, but didn't wake. Smiling fondly, Spyro laid the glowing insect gently on the cushion and nudged Cynder. She snuffled quietly, shifting her head away from him, and refused to awaken. Grinning, Spyro tried again, nuzzling her cheek. Cynder whined softly in her sleep and raised a paw to slap Spyro's muzzle away, but she awoke when she felt her paw connect with his snout. He grinned down at her and she glared reproachfully at him.

"What did you wake me for?" she grumbled, stretching and yawning.

"It's dawn," Spyro responded, gesturing to the window. "We should get going."

Cynder's emerald eyes widened, "Right! I almost forgot!"

She scrambled to her feet, accidently knocking Sparx in the process. He tumbled off the cushion and onto the cold ground, instantly awakening with a yelp. Looking irritated, the dragonfly hovered up to Cynder's eye-level.

"What's the big idea?" he snapped, looking peeved and folding his arms. "I was sleeping!"

Cynder only grinned at him, but Spyro apologised, "Sorry, Sparx, it was accident."

"Accident, huh?" Sparx glared suspiciously at his adopted brother. "Why are you up so early, anyway?"

"We're heading back to the grublin camp to look for clues, remember?" Cynder explained, smirking at the dragonfly's annoyance.

Sparx blinked, "You weren't planning on going without me, were you?"

Spyro hesitated, "Actually, Sparx…"

"What…_what_?" the dragonfly exclaimed, incredulous. "You can't seriously expect me not to come?"

"…I was hoping you could stay here and keep Ember company," Spyro finished, and Sparx's jaw dropped.

"You're joking," he stuttered, staring from Spyro to Cynder to Ember and then back to Spyro.

But Spyro only shrugged apologetically. "Could you?"

Sparx heaved a sigh, "Jeez, babysitting a dragoness? Could it get any worse?"

"I'm not asking you to babysit her, Sparx. Just keep her company," Spyro pleaded. "She's probably feeling pretty down at the moment, with Flame gone and everything. Come on, Sparx, _please_?"

Reluctantly, the dragonfly waved a hand and agreed, "Alright, alright, I'll stay here. You just hurry back, you hear me? Don't go getting into any trouble, because I won't be there to save you!"

Spyro grinned, "No problem, Sparx. Thanks. And tell the guardians where we've gone, if they ask."

He glanced at the sleeping Ember one last time and then turned towards the door, calling for Cynder to follow him. She grinned at Sparx and thanked him, ordering him to take care of Ember, before dashing after the purple dragon. Grumbling, Sparx folded his arms tight and sank down onto the cushion beside Ember's head.

"Could my day get any worse?" he wondered aloud.

Cynder and Spyro wanted to get in as much time searching as possible, so they didn't waste any time telling the guardians they were leaving. Hopefully Sparx would explain if they wondered. The flight to the dam was uneventful, but enjoyable, as both dragons revelled in the chance to be alone together. They soared high above the trees, chasing one another, talking and laughing, disturbing birds when they flew too close to the canopy. But they would not have been so cheerful had they known that, as they flew, a whole army was headed around the long way towards the crumbled North Wall of Warfang.

They had no idea that, as they flew over the dam and headed over the lake, two dragons were leading a hoard of grublins towards the defenceless city. Oblivious to the danger that Warfang was in, Spyro and Cynder soared peacefully over the lake and closed in on the old grublin camp. However, they had barely landed before a strange, distant sound reached them. A deep hollow tone, like that of a huge horn being blown, spread over the land and caused the waters of the lake to ripple. Spyro froze and his head turned towards the sound—towards the city. He knew that sound and it made his very blood run cold as he realised what it meant.

"The city," he whispered, his eyes widening, and Cynder turned towards him, alarmed.

They both knew what it was. That was the sound of the war horn. Warfang was in danger.

**A/N: Mostly a planning chapter building up to the climax of next chapter... Tiny bit of insight into Alta's past and motives here, but all will be explained next chapter. I'll say it straight: I don't like this chapter. I don't know why or what's wrong with it, but I just don't like it. The only thing I like is Alta... Writing him is a whole lot of fun. I'm hoping the next chapter will be better**. **Extra big thank you to my reviewers, you're all awesome! And thanks for reading!**


	22. Battle at Warfang

**A/N: I'm alive! And I bring you a very long chapter. It jumps around a lot, so I inserted breaks so you don't get confused. Enjoy!**

**22. Battle at Warfang**

The loud, hollow note of the war horn swept unbroken over the landscape, injecting fear into the hearts of all who heard it. Crouched low in the undergrowth, Prowlus eyed his victim across the clearing. The deer grazed peacefully, unaware of the prying eyes of the hunter, or that its demise was looming ever closer. Steadying his hand, the cheetah pulled the bowstring taught and peered down the shaft of his arrow. There wasn't a breeze to carry his scent towards the unfortunate creature and Prowlus remained as still as stone.

He was about to let the arrow fly when the loud blaring of a distant horn disturbed the stillness of the clearing. The deer's head shot up, its beetle-black eyes wide with alarm, and caught sight of the cheetah hidden within the bushes. Acting on instinct, Prowlus fired the arrow—but too late. The deer had fled into the forest, leaving the arrow to thud harmlessly into the trunk of a tree. Scowling, Prowlus lowered the bow and stood up. The sound of the horn continued for several moments and then faded into silence. But the cheetah wasn't paying much attention; his lunch had just got away.

With a frustrated sigh, Prowlus slung the bow over his shoulder and wandered over to retrieve his misfired arrow. As he tugged impatiently at the arrow, which refused to be freed from the tree trunk, the cheetah chief found his thoughts turning to that strange sound. One long, hollow note… Prowlus was sure he had heard it somewhere before, but it evaded his memory infuriatingly. At last, with a final violent tug, the arrow came free and Prowlus returned it to his quiver. Then, still pondering the mystery of the sound, he proceeded to return to the village.

However, just as he was walking back across the clearing, Prowlus observed the form of an orange-furred cheetah dashing towards him. Meadow was looking flustered, and there was an inkling of fear in his normally cheerful eyes. He skidded to a halt in front of his chief with his longbow hanging askew over his shoulder. Prowlus raised a furry eyebrow.

"Prowlus!" Meadow gasped, clutching a stitch in his side, "The war horn! The dragon city is…!"

But he needn't say any more. The instant he heard the words 'war horn' Prowlus knew exactly what that sound had been—and what it meant. The chief of cheetahs instantly sprang into action.

"Of course! The war horn! Why didn't I notice it before? Meadow, Warfang is in danger; we must hurry to the village! Gather the troops!" Prowlus took his longbow into his hands, knowing that if he kept it over his shoulder it would hinder his movement.

"Sir!" Meadow sprang to attention, tore his bow off his shoulder, and dashed back in the direction of the village with Prowlus following close behind.

Much of the village was already in disarray when Prowlus and Meadow approached. Many were gathering weapons and putting out campfires, and several dashed towards Prowlus when he entered the village.

"Sir, the war horn—!" several cats babbled at once, but their chief waved them off.

"I know," he growled impatiently. "Quickly now! Gather your weapons and get into formation!"

There was a mad rush to do as Prowlus ordered and soon the cheetah chief was faced with several rows of troops standing rigidly to attention. All had weapons in hand, be it sword, spear or longbow, and looked as serious as if they were going to war. Which, Prowlus thought darkly, they might well be. He marched up and down the formation of troops and his sharp eyes quickly noticed the absence of his best warrior.

"Hunter is still at the dragon city?" he asked Meadow, who was standing stiffly in the front line.

"Yes, sir," Meadow confirmed.

Prowlus grunted, "Well, at least he can assist the dragons until we arrive. Listen up!"

Any nervous jittering and mutterings amongst the ranks instantly ceased at Prowlus' sharp call. The chief of cheetahs held his own longbow tight in his paw, a sharp dagger thrust into his belt and his quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. His eyes held a steely glint that wasn't uncommon before he went to battle.

"Warfang could be in serious danger! We do not know the enemy or how great it is, but we never back down from a fight! The dragons brought about the end of the Great War and now it is time for _us_ to help _them_! But we have no time for dawdling!"

Prowlus glared proudly at his squadron, "March swift and sharp! The dragons of Warfang depend on us, and we must be there to lend our assistance! There will be no hesitation! To Warfang—as fast as your feet can carry you!"

As the majority of the cheetah village followed Prowlus to battle at Warfang, Spyro and Cynder, too, were returning to the dragon city. Little did they know what would be awaiting them upon their return.

* * *

Terrador awoke to disarray. The loud blaring of the war horn caused him to tumble ungracefully off his bed of cushions and he scrambled ungainly to his feet, still half asleep. No sooner had he pushed his large body upright had his door burst inwards and Seriphos had dashed into his room as though Malefor himself was chasing him. The younger green dragon was panting heavily, his eyes wide and panicked, and he wasted no time before explaining the cause of his alarm.

"Master Terrador, we're being attacked!" Seriphos yelped, almost crashing into the guardian in his hast to enter the room. "I had one of the dragons sound the war horn already! Sir, grublins—! The North Wall—hundreds of them—sir, we need to—!"

"Slow down, Seriphos," Terrador insisted, looking worried. "What exactly has happened?"

Seriphos gulped soundlessly for several moments, no doubt attempting and failing to calm himself. He kept shooting nervous glances at the door as though expecting grublins to come surging through it at any moment.

"We were alerted by the moles only moments ago," he told Terrador, attempting to keep his voice steady. "There's a whole army of grublins heading towards the North Wall. Sir, the wall was destroyed when Malefor's army attacked; we're completely defenceless to an attack from outside! The moles say there are hundreds of them! I sent someone to sound the war horn to alert everyone of the danger, but I don't know what to do! Master—!"

"Calm down," Terrador soothed, though he looked worried. "I need you to fetch the other guardians and meet me outside. Panicking isn't going to help. Quickly, now."

"Yes, Master Terrador," Seriphos turned and dashed out of the room, leaving Terrador to lumber down to the common room.

Hunter was already up, woken by Seriphos when he had dashed through towards Terrador's room. He was frantically sharpening his dagger with a rock—Terrador wondered where he'd gotten it from—and only looked up when he heard the earth guardian approach. For someone who had only just been woken up, Terrador was surprised at how alert the cheetah was.

"Terrador, have you heard?" Hunter asked swiftly, returning his dagger to his belt and reaching for his longbow.

"Yes, Seriphos told me just now," Terrador confirmed, looking worried. "Are you—?"

"I was just about to head outside now, and see what I can do to help," Hunter replied, before the earth guardian had even finished his question, "We'll need to scout out how many grublins we're facing. Leave that to me."

The cheetah strode for the door, paused, and glanced back at the earth guardian, "Oh. and the war horn should have alerted my village in Avalar. No doubt Prowlus will be on his way. We will help you to defend Warfang."

"Thank you, Hunter," Terrador nodded, and the cheetah disappeared as the door swung shut behind him.

Outside, Hunter found himself facing a city on the verge of panic. Several moles dashed passed him, their eyes wide and panicky, heading for the protective walls of the atrium. Of the small population of dragons in the city some were standing in the street looking curious and concerned, others were half asleep and wondering what was going on, and a few were doing just what the moles were doing. Dashing past a pair of dragons conversing in loud, confused whispers—"Did you hear the horn?"; "What's it mean?"—Hunter made for the North Wall.

At first everything seemed quiet, but the closer Hunter came to the crumbled wall, the more noise reached his ears. Several moles hurried past him in the opposite direction, almost crashing into him, looking very panicked indeed. Clambering up a pile of rubble that had once been a building, Hunter surveyed the damaged section of the North Wall. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Grublins, hundreds of them, swarmed the rubble that had once made up the nigh-on-impregnable wall. They poured into the city, screeching and howling as they clambered over destroyed buildings and piles of rubble, waving crude weapons and torches of flame above their gruesome heads. The first tendrils of panic weaved their way into Hunter's heart, and he automatically reached for an arrow. But for a single cheetah to take on a whole army of grublins, it was impossible. Hunter stood tall, practice allowing him to keep his panic at bay, and aimed his first arrow.

The grublins had already spotted him and swarmed towards him like bees from a hive. Hunter steadied his trembling hand, aimed, and let the arrow fly. It zipped through the air, humming a deadly tune, and found its mark between the eyes of an unfortunate grublin. Without a sound, the creature fell dead and its comrades swarmed over its body without looking twice. The first blood of the battle had been spilt.

Faced with a charging hoard of hundreds upon hundreds of grublins, Hunter did the only sensible thing he could do. He turned tail and ran. Behind him, the grublins howled in outrage as they watched their victim fleeing into the city. They wasted no time in swarming after him, covering the city like a huge wave of foul stench and piercing screams. With the North Wall down, there was nothing to hinder them.

Hunter fled back to the guardian's quarters, running faster than he'd ever run before, turning sharp corners and leaping over obstacles in his hurry. Confused dragons only stopped and stared as he ran past, not understanding the urgency of the situation. He skidded to a halt in front of the guardian's quarters just as Terrador and the guardians came out. Knowing they had almost no time before the grublins swarmed the whole city, Hunter didn't hesitate to babble what he had seen.

"Master Terrador, we need to move now! The grublins have already entered the city and are making their way towards the centre! They've already taken over the damaged northern area! We don't have any time! We must fight or run!"

"How many?" Terrador asked swiftly, looking tense.

Hunter's normally calm disposition was fast disappearing, "I'm not sure…two thousand, maybe more. Terrador, we have no time, we must move now!"

The earth guardian's green eyes were worried, by there was a steely glint of determination set in them. "We must get the rest of the population to safety. Seriphos!"

"Sir!" Seriphos sprang swiftly to attention, his eyes wild and fearful.

"Take Hunter with you and gather as many able-bodied dragons as you can! Keep the grublins at bay for as long as possible! Understand?"

"Sir!" Seriphos yelped again and, with Hunter at his side, dashed away in search of dragons.

Terrador turned to his fellow guardians, "Come with me! We must gather those who are unable to fight and lead them to the atrium! We should have better defence in there. Thasos, you come with me! Cyril, Volteer, take the eastern side of the city! Be swift!"

The guardians split up accordingly, wasting none of the precious little time they had, but in their panic they'd forgotten one dragon. Ember was still in the infirmary and completely unaware of the danger outside.

* * *

Only moments after Spyro and Cynder had left, Ember had awoken. Naturally she turned straight to Sparx, who was lounging against her paw, and asked if they'd already left.

"Yeah," Sparx grumbled, "and they left _me_ here with _you_."

Ember hesitated, "Is that…a bad thing?"

Sparx opened his mouth to respond accordingly, but stopped when he caught sight of her face. She looked rather hurt, and suddenly the dragonfly felt bad. He stopped his pouting and waved an airy hand.

"'Course not," he replied, before adding a tiny lie, "I volunteered to stay behind. Figured you could use some company…"

Ember considered him for a moment, a tiny, amused smile hovering on her lips. She had a sneaking suspicion that Sparx wasn't telling the truth, but she appreciated that he was thinking about her feelings.

"Thanks, Sparx," she smiled warmly at him and could have sworn that his cheeks turned pink from embarrassment.

Sparx turned his face away from her, mumbling something incoherently, but looking slightly pleased. They sat in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts, unaware of the turmoil that was just occurring at the north wall. The moles were panicking as Ember and Sparx lounged lazily in the infirmary.

Ember yawned widely, "I wonder where the moles are this morning?"

Sparx shrugged, "Who knows? Getting breakfast? Stuffing their faces, no doubt. Which reminds me—that's what we should be doing."

He hovered towards the door and glanced back at Ember who was still lying on her bed of cushions. She looked slightly nervous, although Sparx couldn't understand why.

"Coming?" he asked.

"I…" Ember chewed her lip. "Can I? I mean…what if I can't get up?"

Sparx raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about? Of course you can get up!"

The pink dragoness turned worried eyes on the dragonfly, "I almost died, Sparx! That's what Spyro said. What if my legs…don't work anymore?"

Sparx heaved a sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he returned to her side.

"Well," he said, trying to be encouraging, "you won't know until you try. Come on, up you get."

Nervously, Ember pushed her paws beneath her body, digging her claws into the fabric of the cushions, and attempted to push her body upright. She seemed to struggle for a few seconds, her body quivering with the effort, her muscles weak from disuse. But suddenly she was upright, standing on all fours with only the slightest of trembles in her legs as they supported her body weight. She took a tentative step off the cushions and sighed with relief when her legs didn't give way beneath her.

"There," Sparx grinned proudly. "See? You can walk fine. No worries."

Ember returned his grin, "Yeah…guess I was worrying for nothing."

"Come on," Sparx beckoned for her to follow him towards the door, "I'm starved."

Ember followed close, her knees still shaking slightly but becoming stronger with each step. Sparx had just reached the door when he paused suddenly as a strange sound reached his ears. It was faint, but Sparx was sure that it was the sound of screaming, panicked cries. Confused, the dragonfly turned to Ember.

"Do you hear that?"

"What?" she asked, confused, and then stopped to listen. Sure enough, in the distance could be heard the sound of collective screams.

Ember raised her eyebrows, "It sounds like…screaming. Do you think there's something wrong?"

Slightly nervous, Sparx gently pushed the door open a crack, "Only one way to find out…"

He peered out the crack he had made, barely big enough for even him to fit through, but could barely see anything in the street. Impatiently, Ember nudged the door open with her snout and stared outside. For a moment the streets seemed empty, until the dragonfly and dragoness observed several moles dashing past with their furry paws flailing in panic. Ember raised an eyebrow, curious.

"Something's wrong," she muttered to Sparx, and he nodded in agreement.

"Maybe…" Sparx twisted his hands anxiously, "we should stay in here…"

The dragonfly was never one for bravery, but Ember seemed to have other ideas. Emboldened by the newfound strength in her limbs, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the street.

"I'm going to see what's going on!" she called back to Sparx, before dashing out of his field of vision as the door swung shut.

Sparx's eyes widened in alarmed and he strained to open the door, yelling after her, "No, Ember, wait!"

He managed to open a crack just the right size for him to squeeze through and soon spotted Ember dashing in the direction that the moles had been running from. Panicked about losing her, Sparx zipped after her as fast as he could. But it was no use keeping up with the pink dragoness, who seemed to be enjoying being able to run after so long lying down. She turned sharp corners around buildings and leapt over garden beds, glancing at the confused dragons that stood in the streets and wondering what was happening. She seemed completely oblivious to Sparx as he yelled her name over and over again in his attempt to catch up.

Sparx was temporarily held up when a large dragon suddenly stepped out in front of him, causing the unfortunate dragonfly to run straight into his shoulder. Grumbling, Sparx pried himself off the yellow scales of the dragon and glared into his face. The bemused face of Naxos stared back at him.

"Whoops, sorry about that," the yellow dragon grinned, before his smile dropped off his face. "Do you know what's going on?"

"No," Sparx grumbled bad-temperedly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Flying around Naxos, Sparx continued on, but soon realised he had lost sight of the one he had been following. He glanced around everywhere, scratching his head in confusion, but he didn't spot the pink dragoness anywhere. Hovering around the nearest corner, Sparx hoped to find her but was instead faced with an empty street. His wings drooped. Ember was nowhere to be seen and he was sure he could hear the hooting and howling of something unpleasant in the distance. His day had just gotten a whole lot worse.

"Oh no," was all he could mumble.

* * *

Alta observed his army of grublins as they swarmed over the rubble of the North Wall and streamed into the city like a wave. He hovered above the wall with Flame at his side, high enough to evade the eyes of those on the ground such as the cheetah he had just observed fleeing from the hoard. There was nothing stopping his army now, and they made their way towards the heart of the city without relent. Alta couldn't keep the triumphant grin off his face.

"Look at that," he remarked to Flame, beating his wings to keep airborne. "No one is even trying to stop them. Truly, Warfang is a broken city."

Flame's only answer was to stare at the city below him, his wings beating in time with Alta's, his eyes following the waves of grublins. Alta didn't seem bothered by his lack of response; in fact, he seemed more excited than ever.

"What do you think, Flame?" he asked, although he wasn't expecting an answer. "Our turn?"

Flame only looked at him and Alta grinned, "I thought so. Follow!"

The grey dragon swooped down towards the city, heading for a small mountain of rubble near the edge of the damaged area of the city. Flame followed like a lost puppy. When Alta landed, Flame alighted right beside him and waited for his orders. The grey dragon took a moment to scope out his surroundings.

"The dragons must have fled to the other side of the city," he mumbled, and then turned to Flame. "We will split up. Go help the grublins. Kill anything you come across: dragon, cheetah, mole—it makes no difference. As for the purple dragon…"

A sadistic grin spread across Alta's face, "He's mine."

Flame nodded once in understanding and then cantered off into the city in search of creatures to decapitate and blood to spill. Alta watched him triumphantly before spreading his wings and soaring deeper into the city, towards the heart. It was time to find Spyro; time to end him.

* * *

Seriphos and Hunter sped through the city in desperate search of anyone to help them fight off the grublins. But the lack of dragons in the huge city made it particularly difficult to find any—there were only the moles that dashed frantically through the streets. The screeches and howls of grublins became ever louder as the army pressed deeper into the city. Seriphos was just about to turn down the street to his left when a roar of rage came from the street to his right.

Exchanging an alarmed glance with Hunter, Seriphos galloped down the street towards the noise with the cheetah hard on his tail. What they found there was a group of grublins, no doubt having split off from the main hoard, surrounding two male dragons. Seriphos recognised them instantly.

"Naxos, Delos!" he roared, hurrying over to help and catching their attention.

But they were too busy to respond and Seriphos was forced to leap out of the way as Delos unleashed a molten ball of lava upon the grublins between him and the green dragon. In response, Naxos's scales suddenly exploded with electricity, shocking every creature within a two-metre radius, including his red rival. Snarling at the pain, and free from assaulting grublins for the moment, Delos turned furiously to the yellow dragon.

"Watch it!" he snarled. "Aim for the bloody grublins, not _me_!"

For once Naxos didn't reply with his usual cocky comeback. Instead he gave Delos a stone-cold gaze that could have put even Cyril to shame.

"In case you haven't noticed, Delos," Naxos snarled, speaking slowly with obvious emphasis on his words, "we're in the middle of a freakin' war zone! If you want to waste time on precision, you might as well let the beasts overrun the city!"

Delos's eyes burned with anger, "There was no need to shock me too! We're on the same side, dammit!"

Bolts of electricity flickered across Naxos's scales as he retorted, "It's not my fault if you get in my way! It wasn't anything you couldn't handle, anyway!"

"Enough, idiots!" Seriphos yelled at this point, having been watching them with an incredulous look on his face. "We don't have time for this! The city is being overrun, we need to defend it!"

Reluctantly, the two arguing dragons turned away from each other and acknowledged the green dragon and the cheetah. Hunter had folded his arms and was looking most disapproving of their actions, his body tensed for action lest more grublins attack.

"What exactly is going on?" Naxos asked, looking from Seriphos to Hunter.

"It's just a few grublins," Delos grumbled irately, no doubt still annoyed with Naxos.

Hunter stared at him gravely, "Just a few grublins? Do you have any idea the size of their army?"

Slightly taken aback, Delos could only shrug sheepishly. This prompted Hunter to answer and he did so with a deadly serious expression on his face.

"We are facing a force of hundreds," the cheetah murmured, "and, if my estimations are correct, their numbers could stretch to over two thousand. There are far more than, as you put it, 'just a few'."

Naxos and Delos exchanged worried glances, and Naxos asked hesitantly, "They've already breached the walls?"

"The North Wall was already down," Seriphos replied gravely. "Remember? No doubt they're spreading throughout the city as we speak…"

Quite suddenly the two listening dragons paled, as though having come to a very disturbing realisation. They looked at each other and cried together, "Chios!"

"Dammit," Delos swore softly, "I can't believe we forgot about her. She was heading for the main hall…"

"With grublins on the loose and she being all on her own…" Naxos trailed off, looking terrified at the thought.

"We need to find her!" Delos yelped, but Seriphos cut in.

"Listen to me!" he begged. "We need to defend the city! I can't do it on my own! We don't stand a chance against this invasion unless we band together our forces and fight as one! You have to help me find everyone else—anyone who can help us defend against the grublins!"

Naxos hesitated, his thoughts still with the green dragoness, "But…"

"Go," Delos insisted suddenly, "help Seriphos gather everyone together. I'll find Chios and we'll meet up with you."

He didn't give Naxos a chance to disagree, taking off towards the main hall before the yellow dragon could even get a word in. Naxos watched him go with a mixture of worry and annoyance. But there was no time for stalling; the city was in danger and they had a duty to defend it.

Delos sped through the city. With every turn he came face to face with disarray: grublins spreading havoc and setting fire to whatever they could burn; moles fleeing in a panic; even the guardians Volteer and Cyril shepherding a group of elderly dragons towards the atrium. He spotted Sestos and Milos down one alleyway and yelled for them to find and help Seriphos before continuing on his search for Chios. But there didn't seem to be any sign of the green dragoness.

Dodging a pack of grublins that had spotted him and were attempting to leap on his back, Delos leapt through a sheet of flame rising from a pile of wood that had once been a well. He landed heavily on the other side, rolling ungracefully onto his side, and struggled upright just as the scream of a female dragon reached his ears. Gritting his teeth, Delos galloped towards the sound and spotted who he had been looking for.

Chios stood in the centre of the street, beset on all sides by several airborne and grounded grublins. They jabbed at her with crude stone and wooden weapons, some slashing with nasty sharp claws at her delicate green scales. She cried out again as the stone head of a spear left a jagged cut along her rib cage. Delos's golden eyes flashed like fire and a snarl of fury ripped from his throat as he leapt at the grublins.

Fire spread scorching from his maw, turning several grublins into nothing but ash and startling Chios. She stepped back as Delos landed in front of her, using his tail to sweep away several more of the hideous beasts. She had never seen him look so angry, not even with all the times he had fought with Naxos and Flame.

"Delos," she gasped, staring at him, but his reply was interrupted by a strike to his head from a club-wielding, airborne grublin.

"Dammit—!" Delos started to say, but cut himself off with a terrifying roar as he slashed the offending grublin in two with his lethal claws.

He was just about to turn to look for any more of the beasts, when Chios's cry from behind caught his attention. Two grublins had just approached from behind, catching her off-guard and they thrust their spears towards the flesh of her midriff. Delos acted without stopping to think, slamming his shoulder into Chios and knocking her out of the way. The spear points found their mark instead in the shoulder of the red dragon. His howl of pain mingled with the screeches of the grublins as they were turned to ash by his next wave of fire.

Gasping, Delos suddenly found himself on his knees. One of the spear points had penetrated deep into his shoulder, striking the bone, whilst the other had slipped into the flesh just behind his shoulder, slicing the muscle and reaching his ribs. The pain was almost unbearable and Delos felt the world spin as agony lanced through his body. He barely registered the fact that Chios had knelt at his side and was inspecting the wound with worry in her kind brown eyes.

"D-Delos, you…" she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes as she looked upon the wound that had been inflicted upon him.

"I'm…fine," Delos gasped, attempting to reassure her by pushing himself up. But he fell back with a gasp of pain and almost collapsed onto his side. The spear points scraped against his bones and blood was beginning to pulse from the edges of the wounds.

"No, you're not," Chios looked worried, glancing at the spears. "…We need to get those out."

She bent towards the first spear, the one in his shoulder, and glanced up at his face, "This will hurt."

Her jaws clamped around the shaft of the spear, ignoring Delos's feeble protests, and she pulled as hard and fast as she could. The spear came out easily, along with a fresh flow of blood from the now-open wound and a howl of pain from Delos. Chios spat it out distastefully. Ignoring Delos's snarls of pain, she angled her head to grasp the second spear between her teeth. Delos didn't even try to argue this time, knowing she wouldn't listen. His scream of agony was even louder this time as she tugged the spear from his flesh and let it fall to the ground. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking his already red scales.

"Th-There," Chios mumbled, kicking the spears away, and glancing at the freshly-bleeding wounds. "Now we just need to stop that bleeding. Are you okay?"

Delos's jaws were clamped so tightly together that he was forced to breathe only through his nose. He was quite clearly in pain, but he grunted reassuringly in response. Worried, Chios glanced frantically around her for something to stop the bleeding and her eyes fell on something a few metres away. She dashed over to grab it as Delos knelt on the ground, his breathing heavy and laboured. What she brought back was a satchel made from the skin of a deer, filled with a plant of some sort.

"The moles made this for me," she explained to the confused red dragon. "To carry my herbs. I tend to keep it with me, just in case…for moments like these. I dropped it when those grublins attacked."

"How…many moments like these…do we come across every…day?" Delos managed to grunt between snarls of pain, but Chios ignored him again as she fished out a bundle of dark green leaves with her claw.

She leant towards his wounds and Delos watched her in surprise, wondering what she was doing. The answer came moments later as she began to lick gently at the bleeding wounds, clearing away the blood that had spilled over his scales. She was cleaning the wounds. Delos watched her in amazement until she stopped suddenly and reached for the herbs.

"What—?" he began, but she cut him off.

"Hush," she hissed, and suddenly stuffed a bunch of the dark green leaves into his wound.

Delos snarled in pain, throwing his head back, and almost fainted when she performed the same treatment to the second wound. After a few moments the pain lessened slightly, enabling the injured red dragon to speak again. He glared accusingly at Chios, who was busy tying the satchel around her upper foreleg where she usually kept it.

"What the heck was that about?" he snarled, too annoyed to notice that the pain from his wounds was slowly fading.

"They're medicinal herbs," Chios explained patiently, standing up. "They help to prevent infection and dull pain. Good for stopping the bleeding, too. See?"

Delos glanced down at his shoulder. Sure enough, the herbs were acting like a natural plug and stopping the flow of blood that had previously been gushing down his leg. The pain seemed to be oddly dulled, too, receding to a dull ache that was easily bearable. Delos blinked, surprised.

"Oh," was all he managed to say.

Chios smiled, "Getting up, now?"

"Right," Delos heaved his body upright, staggering slightly on his injured leg, and steadied himself by leaning on Chios. She leant against him, keeping him upright with her own body, and smirked.

"You're so careless, you know that?"

Delos looked rather offended, "I was saving you!"

Chios grinned, her eyes sparkling, "Thanks, Delos."

The red dragon coughed, turning his face away to hide his blush, even though his red scales already did a good job of that. He spotted the carcasses of several grublins on the ground and suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, right!" he yelped suddenly, turning quickly back to Chios. "We need to go find Seriphos and Naxos! They're forming a group to defend the city against the grublins! Come on!"

He seemed to have forgotten about his injury as he began to canter back the way he had come. Chios hurried after him, calling his name.

"Delos, wait!" she cried, reaching his side. "How do you know where they are?"

Delos hesitated for a split second, before his sharp hearing caught the cries of grublins towards his left. He smiled grimly, "Easy: where the majority of the grublins are."

* * *

Terrador was none-too-gently forcing an old, panicked dragon into the atrium when Cyril and Volteer came running up. The earth guardian turned to them after pushing the panicking dragon through the doors into the safety of the atrium's entrance hall.

"How many dragons left in the city?" he inquired of his fellow guardians.

Volteer looked worried, "We're unsure, Terrador. We directed all those we found to the atrium, but there may be others still hiding within the city."

Terrador glanced at Cyril, "Any sign of Seriphos and Hunter?"

"Spotted them not moments ago," Cyril replied importantly. "They've gathered a small force and are heading towards the bulk of the grublin forces."

Terrador nodded slowly, but there was something tugging annoyingly at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had forgotten something. But just what could it be? He was just wracking his brains for an answer, ignoring a screaming mole that dashed passed him and disappeared into the atrium, when he spotted an approaching, glowing yellow dot. Suddenly Terrador's brain kicked into action, the sight of Sparx jogging his memory.

"Spyro!" the earth guardian yelped, "Have either of you seen him?"

Cyril and Volteer exchanged anxious glances. In the heat of the moment, they too had forgotten the purple dragon.

"Afraid not, Terrador," Cyril replied gravely.

"Not a sign of him," Volteer added, shaking his yellow head.

Terrador bit his lip, "Cynder?"

Again the other two guardians shook their heads. Terrador was just beginning to worry when he remembered something else that made him feel as though his heart had just dropped several inches and robbed him of breath.

"Ember," he breathed, scales turning white with fear. "By the ancestors, how could we have forgotten?"

Terrador whirled on Cyril and Volteer, "Have either of you checked the infirmary? Has there been any sign of Ember at all?"

But their answers did nothing to quell his fears. They had completely overlooked the infirmary, forgetting all about the young pink dragoness. As far as they knew, the grublins could well have swarmed the building already. Terrador was just about to speed towards the infirmary himself when Sparx suddenly appeared in his face with wide, frantic eyes.

"Hey, big guy!" was the first thing he yelled, flapping his tiny yellow arms. "Have you seen Ember? I've looked everywhere, but I can't find her! I mean, I was with her and then she ran off and I crashed into that crazy yellow dragon—what's his name? Nako…Naxos?—and then I looked again and she was gone! And what the heck is going on? There's grublins everywhere!"

Terrador took a step back to get a better look at the dragonfly, "Slow down, Sparx. Did you say you were with Ember?"

Sparx nodded quickly, wringing his hands anxiously, "Yeah, I was. We were in the infirmary and we heard weird noises—'course, Spyro and Cynder were gone by then—so we went out to take a look. And she just ran off! I can't find her anywhere!"

Terrador's frown of worry deepened, but Cyril focused on something Sparx had casually let slip.

"Spyro and Cynder are gone?" the ice guardian asked, stopping Sparx's worried mumbling. The dragonfly looked at him as though he'd asked the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

"Of course," Sparx answered, "They left ages ago. You know, scouting out the grublin camp and all that. …Nice timing, don't ya think?"

He waved a hand in the direction of the screeching hoard of grublins to illustrate his point. For a moment Terrador looked relieved, glad that the young purple dragon and the black dragoness were not caught up in this mess, before his expression turned again to worry.

"But we have lost Ember?" he asked Sparx, and the dragonfly nodded.

"You haven't seen her?" Sparx asked the guardians, but they all shook their heads.

Sparx's shoulder's drooped, "Guess I'll keep looking then…"

"Good," Terrador said suddenly, surprising everyone. "Sparx will look for Ember. Thasos and I will defend the atrium. Cyril, Volteer, make sure that no one is caught outside by the grublins. It is up to us to defend this city and everyone in it."

Cyril and Volteer nodded swiftly and turned away from the atrium, nodding to Thasos as they passed. The fire guardian was trying to guide a group of frantic moles towards the atrium. Terrador turned to Sparx.

"Find Ember and bring her back here," he ordered, "as quickly as you can. With any luck, Seriphos and his group should be able to hold off the grublins long enough for Prowlus and the cheetahs to arrive. I only hope they _will_ come…"

"And Spyro too," Sparx added quickly, to Terrador's surprise. "He'll have heard the horn. He'll be here to help in no time, I'm sure of it. Cynder, too."

Terrador paused for a few moments and by the time he had uttered an answer, Sparx had already disappeared. The earth guardian watched as Thasos ushered the moles into the atrium, his heart heavy with worry.

"Be quick, Spyro," he sighed, wincing at the sounds of the fighting grublins only streets away, "or there may not be a city for you to return to."

* * *

The purple dragon was, at that very moment, closing in on the city of Warfang. With Cynder hard on his tail, Spyro sped down towards the battlements, his eyes searching the city below for any sign of disturbance. What he saw almost made his heart stop. Grublins swarmed the city, spreading from the north wall through the streets and covering nearly half the city. Like mould, the army of grublins spread faster and faster through the city as fires started and buildings crumbled in their wake.

Blinking back tears that had sprung into his eyes at the sight of his broken city, Spyro made a beeline for the nearest spot on the wall. He landed heavier than he intended, stumbling slightly, and gazed down at the city. Cynder landed beside him, her own eyes wide with horror and disbelief. Shrieks and screams echoed through the city and Spyro watched in dismay as a nearby building went up in flames that licked at wooden window sills. Anger rose in his chest.

"How…" he hissed, scraping white scratches in the stone beneath his feet. "How could this happen? I thought the grublins were gone…I thought it was all finished after we defeated Malefor…I thought the war was _over_!"

He roared his last word and it rung out over the city with the force of an explosion. Beside him Cynder winced involuntarily and shot him a nervous look as though expecting his darkness to take over at any second. But somehow, miraculously, Spyro regained control of his anger and stood puffing smoke as he glared down upon the creatures that were ransacking his city. They had to be stopped. But now was not the time for rash decisions; Spyro knew he needed a plan.

"Cynder," he turned to her swiftly. "We need to find the guardians! They might already be fighting and we need to help them!"

"What about Ember?" Cynder cut in anxiously, the pink dragoness coming suddenly to mind. "She might still be in the infirmary! And Sparx too…"

Spyro paled slightly, "Y-You're right…"

The purple dragon turned his gaze down on the city, "Ember is in no shape to be fighting just yet, and Sparx can't do much to protect her. If she's in trouble…"

He trailed off, thinking quickly, and then came to a decision, "Cynder, I want you to go find her. I'm going to look for the guardians and find out what's going on. Can you do that?"

The black dragoness hesitated momentarily before giving a short nod in reply. Spyro smiled grimly, but he looked worried. Just as Cynder was about to leave, he called her back.

"Cynder, be careful," he insisted, his lilac eyes shining with concern. "If Flame's behind this…I don't want you getting hurt again."

Cynder smiled fondly and turned back to nuzzle briefly beneath Spyro's chin. He sighed, closing his eyes, and wrapped a wing around her shoulders protectively.

"I'll be fine," she reassured him, stepping back. "Don't worry. See you soon, Spyro."

She turned and scampered away, spreading her crimson wings and soaring down towards the city. She paused in midair and glanced up at the purple dragon briefly, as though a new thought had just occurred to her.

"You be careful, too!" she yelled back, and Spyro raised an orange wing in response.

He watched her until she was out of sight, the worry settling even deeper into his heart. With a sigh, he turned away and took flight in the opposite direction. Somehow he had to find the guardians, wherever they may be.

Cynder searched the city frantically after determining that the infirmary was empty, glancing down every alleyway and dodging every grublin that dared throw an attack at her. She melted several with her acidic poison breath, skidding around a corner in time to avoid a spear that one lobbed at her. After several minutes of doing this, Cynder was beginning to become out of breath. And no matter where she looked, there didn't seem to be any sign of Ember.

She had just leapt over a large garden bed and was forced to roll to the side as an arrow zipped passed her head and buried itself in the chest of a grublin that had been hovering behind her. She glanced upwards to see who it was that had fired the arrow and watched in amazement as Hunter notched another arrow and fired it at another grublin in a matter of seconds. It struck the foul creature between the eyes and it fell without a sound.

A roar shook the earth and sudden pillars of rock shot from the cobblestones, impaling several grublins and knocking others off balance. Cynder caught sight of Seriphos, his eyes glowing green as he controlled his violent element of earth. It was then that she noticed several other dragons, including Naxos and Delos, fighting with all their might against the never-ending hoard of grublins. This must have been the resistance, she realised. After watching them for a few moments, Cynder decided that they could handle this on their own and continued her search for Ember.

Her search proved fruitless for almost another fifteen minutes, by which time Cynder was becoming slightly panicked. She looked everywhere for a flash of pink scales or the glowing yellow dragonfly, but neither appeared before her. But suddenly, out of nowhere, Cynder heard a scream of fear and snapped her gaze towards it. On a long, covered walkway, built at the top story of one of the buildings, Cynder saw a flash of coloured scales. She sprang into the air, spreading her crimson wings, and soared upwards.

It was there that she found two young dragons—one pink, one red—and a trembling, terrified dragonfly.

* * *

Flame had been stalking impatiently through the streets of Warfang, ignoring the large groups of grublins that seemed to somehow know that he was an ally, searching for creatures to kill. The lack of dragons infuriated him. He wanted to shed blood, to see it spilt across the cobblestones, to tear through flesh with his lethal talons. But without any victims that was impossible. And Flame was becoming very irate.

He was just turning down yet another alleyway when he heard the sound of a soft voice.

"I need to get a better view…" he heard the voice say, unmistakeably female.

Flame turned his golden eyes towards the source and caught sight of a pink dragoness standing in the middle of a small courtyard, glancing around her. The grublins had yet to reach this area, but their screeches could be heard quite clearly in the next street. No doubt the pink dragoness was looking for a better vantage point. She seemed familiar somehow, but Flame shook that thought off.

Frowning, the pink dragoness suddenly took to the air and soared gracefully upwards towards the top floor of a nearby building—a protected and yet open area with a roof held up by long pillars. Eager for the scent and sight of blood, Flame took off after her. There was no way she was getting away from him that easily.

She had just landed and was gazing down at the grublins in the street below her when Flame landed lightly behind her. The sound of his claws scraping on stone caught her attention and she turned with a gasp.

"F-Flame!"

Flame blinked, wondering just how she knew his name, but shook that thought off too. There was only room for one thought in his head: he wanted to see this dragoness's blood—now. Ignoring her stunned and confused face, Flame twisted his own into a sadistically eager expression. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he bared his teeth in a snarl, taking a menacing step forward. The pink dragoness took an automatic step backwards, only to find herself at the very edge of the platform on which they stood. Her eyes shone with horror—an expression that Flame very much enjoyed seeing. He was about to spring, but he was interrupted quite rudely by a buzzing little glowing insect.

Sparx had looked everywhere for Ember, and was becoming increasingly agitated, so when he finally spotted her he wasted no time in racing to her side. He didn't even seem to notice her horrified expression, or the dangerous red dragon it was directed at. Throwing his hands in the air, Sparx hovered in front of her nostrils and glared.

"Finally, I found you!" he said, looked very much irked. "I've been looking everywhere! Why the heck did you run off like…?"

He trailed off, confused by her horrified eyes which seemed to be staring right through him, and glanced behind him. The first thing he saw were two glowing golden eyes, like empty tunnels, and then he saw the ferocious rows of sharp teeth and the snarling red dragon they belonged to.

"WHOA!" Sparx fell back against Ember's muzzle, flinging his arms out in an almost protective manner.

He stared at Flame, trembling, and Flame stared back with teeth bared and claws at the ready. Sparx almost fainted at the sight, but remained trembling in front of Ember with his arms held wide. As small as he was, the dragonfly knew he needed to protect the dragoness. Somehow.

"Maybe we should…" he mumbled, trying to nudge Ember away, but was cut off by an angry, snarling roar from the red dragon.

Sparx squealed in fear and covered his face as Ember's terrified scream ripped through him like a knife. Flame pounced at them with his mouth wide open, claws first, ready to tear the two to shreds. But suddenly, out of nowhere, something big and black crashed heavily into his side. The two creatures rolled over each other, and the black one was the first to untangle itself and spring back to its feet. Sparx uncovered his eyes in time to see Cynder standing in front of him, her body in a battle stance, snarling angrily at Flame.

"Cy-Cynder!" the dragonfly whimpered. He had never been happier to see the black dragoness in his life.

She turned her emerald eyes on him briefly, "Don't worry. I'll deal with him. Get Ember out of here."

Sparx was only too happy to comply, but Ember put a stop to his intentions.

"No," the pink dragoness murmured, surprising the black dragoness and the dragonfly, "I'm not going anywhere."

Cynder turned her eyes back to Flame, who was now pacing backwards and forwards, never taking his eyes off them, waiting for the ideal moment to strike.

"Ember, you're in no shape to be fighting. Go with Sparx and get to safety. Now."

But again Ember shook her head and repeated firmly, "No. Flame is my friend. I'm not leaving him."

Glancing at the pink dragoness's determined expression, Cynder knew there was nothing she could do to dissuade her. She huffed in annoyance and turned back to Flame, who was now beginning to smoke at the mouth. Fire licked between his clenched teeth.

"Fine," Cynder scowled. "But I hope you're ready. Flame isn't the friend you once knew."

"Then it's our job to bring him out of that state," Ember replied strongly, her confidence suddenly growing now that Cynder was there. She moved to stand at the black dragoness's side, staring at the red dragon that had once been her closest friend and feeling a pang of pain in her heart as she did so.

Neither dragoness noticed Sparx as he covered his face with a hand and muttered, "Oh boy…I can't watch this."

* * *

"Dammit!" Spyro snarled as he fastened his jaws around the leg of an unfortunate grublin and shook it like a ragdoll before slamming it mercilessly into the ground.

No sooner had he finished that one off did several more swarm him like insects. He opened his jaws wide and spewed out a scorching wave of fire that incinerated the creatures and singed the cobblestones on the street. Puffing heavily, Spyro turned his gaze down the street, expecting more grublins to attack at any moment. He had been fighting his way through the city for several minutes and hadn't caught sight of the guardians anywhere. To make matters worse, the grublins seemed to be endless and Spyro was running out of breath.

He coughed heavily, expelling a cloud of black smoke and ash, before breathing deeply in an attempt to regain his breath. Shaking exhaustion from his mind, Spyro hurried onwards deeper into the city in his search for the guardians. Fires were eating away at whatever wooden parts they could find on the stone buildings, and Spyro's eyes stung with the heat. His chest felt tight, and he wasn't sure whether it was from exhaustion or his own emotions.

Blinking smoke out of his eyes as he leapt through a sheet of fire, Spyro found himself beneath the roof of a walkway lined with twisting columns. One of the columns had been broken—by grublins, no doubt—and its pieces were scattered across the ground. Scowling, Spyro was just about to continue along the walkway when an unfamiliar voice suddenly hailed him.

"My, my, the purple dragon," said the voice, sounding amused and somewhat pleased. "What a coincidence."

Spyro didn't like the tone of this dragon's voice at all, and spun around to meet him with an angry glare. But the appearance of the dragon so surprised him that Spyro's glare instantly fell off his face. This dragon couldn't have been any older than Spyro himself, younger even, and his pale blue eyes twinkled innocently. His scales were a pale grey that merged smoothly with the ivory whiteness of his chest, horns and the membranes of his wings. He was wearing very odd pieces of armour that didn't look like they'd give him any protection at all.

Spyro raised an eyebrow, "Who in blazes are you?"

The grey dragon didn't answer, merely smiling at Spyro and saying, "It's Spyro, right?"

Spyro wasn't sure how he knew his name, but something about him seemed oddly familiar. Only, Spyro couldn't think of where it was that he had seen this dragon before. The grey dragon didn't seem bothered by Spyro's confusion, stepping closer to him and causing the nearby flames to reflect off his scales. Suddenly Spyro remembered where he'd seen this dragon before.

"You!" he yelped, lilac eyes widening in surprise. "It's you! From that dream!"

The grey dragon looked surprised briefly, "You've dreamt of me? My…I'm rather flattered."

Spyro clenched his teeth, narrowing his eyes into a suspicious glare. Yes, this was that same dragon—the one from his dream only the previous night. The dream dragon had stood in front of Spyro in the middle of a burning Warfang, and now here he was—in the flesh—doing just that. Spyro always hated it when his dreams turned out to be premonitions. Sometimes it made him feel afraid to fall asleep. But now wasn't the time to think on such things.

"You didn't answer my question," Spyro snarled, tensed for action, "Who are you? And what do you want here? Are you behind this? Are you the one controlling the grublins?"

The grey dragon looked amused, and it seemed as though he was trying to look offended, "Now, now, is that any way to speak to someone you just met? You can't go around accusing dragons without any proof…"

Spyro's whole body quivered with rage, "Answer me!"

"Alta," said the grey dragon finally, staring at Spyro intently. "My name. As for the grublins…"

Alta paused, smiled briefly, and said quite clearly, "Yes, they're currently doing my bidding—destroying your city. You're not pleased?"

A scream of pure rage ripped from Spyro's throat and he flung himself at the grey dragon with intent to kill. But he landed heavily on the ground instead, surprised that Alta was no longer standing there. Instead he stood to the side, watching Spyro with amusement as the purple dragon sprang back to his feet.

"Why would I be pleased by something like that?" Spyro roared, his lilac eyes burning ferociously. "You're destroying my home! You're harming innocent creatures! What's to be pleased with?"

Alta smiled gently, "Well, when you put it that way… but _I_ do find it pleasing. Shame you don't share my view."

Spyro trembled with rage, but he fought his anger back down and managed to spit out, "Who _are_ you?"

Alta looked surprised, "I told you, Al—"

"Not your name!" Spyro cut him off angrily, glowering. "I want to know who you _are_! What do you want? What are you doing here? Why? Just…just _why_?"

The amused look on Alta's face had disappeared suddenly to be replaced by a very bitter expression that had turned his face quite ugly. Spyro noticed that his blue eyes now looked like chips of ice—no longer remotely innocent.

"Well, I suppose you deserve to know the reason for your demise…" Alta scowled, speaking the word 'demise' with relish.

He began to stalk around Spyro, like a predator circling its prey, the fires around them glancing briefly off his grey scales. Spyro watched him like a hawk, turning his head to keep his eyes on the circling, grey dragon.

"The first thing you must know is that I'm not much younger than you, Spyro," Alta said, "and that I was born into a small tribe of oracle dragons—seers."

Spyro looked briefly surprised at this, but said nothing as Alta continued his story.

"We lived on the outskirts of civilisation, specialising in creating artefacts and foretelling small parts of the future. During the war we kept hidden in caves and the like, hiding from the Dark Master and his puppet-like servants. But the apes were everywhere, swarming the world, and many oracle dragons were picked off one by one until there were hardly any of us left."

Alta watched Spyro's expression closely, "Now, like my brother and parents before me, I had the power of the seer. If I concentrated hard enough, I could see snippets of the future—things that dragons were never meant to know about until they happened."

"Like the Pool of Visions," Spyro muttered quietly, but Alta heard and shook his head.

"Not quite," Alta was still circling. "We oracle dragons needed no such tools to see our visions. They merely came to us—in dreams or even while we were still awake. Our clan was very small, many of us killed by the Dark Master's servants, when I had a vision. It was a vision unlike any other I'd ever had—so vivid, so _real_. And I knew that what I had seen was meant to happen."

Spyro stared hard at the grey dragon, and hesitantly asked, "And what did you see…in this vision?"

Alta paused in his pacing, coming to a stop directly in front of the purple dragon. Something about the way his eyes shone made him look alarmingly insane, and Spyro almost shivered at the sight.

"Death," Alta replied softly, his voice a calm hiss. Spyro felt his blood run cold.

"Death?" he repeated, cocking an eyebrow, not entirely understanding.

Alta's eyes seemed to glow with excitement, "That's right. I saw the aftermath of the war—I saw how it was going to end before it did. And you know what I saw? I saw the death of all of dragon kind! I saw the cleansing of our species from this world! I saw _death_, as it was meant to occur!"

Spyro's blood boiled with anger, "But you were wrong! The war didn't end with death! I stopped Malefor before he could do such a thing! Dragon kind still exists despite the Dark Master's efforts, despite your petty vision! You were _wrong_!"

Alta's paw swung out so suddenly that Spyro didn't have time to dodge. He felt it glance heavily across his face and soon found himself sprawled on the ground with three nasty gashes along his cheek—very similar to the mark that Cynder had left him with not long ago. Wincing more out of shock than pain, Spyro raised his head to see Alta standing over him with eyes that burned with fury.

"I was not _wrong_," Alta hissed, anger turning his face very bitter indeed. "Visions are never _wrong_! I foretold the end of the war as it should have happened! It was a prophecy that was destined to occur!"

"But it didn't!" Spyro snarled, struggling to get upright. "It didn't occur!"

Alta suddenly slammed his paw down on Spyro's shoulder, digging his claws into his flesh and drawing blood, causing the purple dragon to cry out in pain. The grey dragon was shaking all over now, anger pulsing through his veins.

"It didn't occur, Spyro," Alta hissed, hardly managing to speak between his clenched teeth, "because _you_ screwed it all up! And you don't even understand what you've _done_!"

With a strength born from anger, Alta lifted the purple dragon off the ground and threw him like he weighed no more than a feather. Spyro's body slammed mercilessly into a nearby pillar and he dropped to the ground with a gasp of pain, sure that several of his ribs were broken. Groggily, he raised his head, listening to Alta's heavy breathing from somewhere near his prostrate body. Spyro tasted blood in his mouth and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the metallic taste.

"I…don't know what you're talking about," he managed to spit out, spraying the floor with blood as he did so.

Alta looked murderous as he stalked towards the wincing purple dragon, "Use your head, Spyro. I'd think a dragon like you would be smart enough to figure it out."

But Spyro only glared at the grey dragon. Alta seemed to realise he wasn't going to get an answer. This seemed to anger him even further and he pinned Spyro against the pillar with a paw at his throat. Spyro gagged, his air supply suddenly cut off by Alta's paw, and struggled feebly. Alta gritted his teeth.

"You've stopped destiny from coming true," Alta snarled softly, his muzzle almost touching Spyro's. "What I saw was meant to happen—for the sake of this world—but you stopped it. You stopped my prophecy from coming true. Don't you understand Spyro?"

Alta's claws curled inwards, sinking into the soft flesh of Spyro's throat. The purple dragon tried to gasp, but only managed a strangled sort of gurgle.

"You've destroyed the natural order of the world," Alta hissed quietly, his icy blue eyes burning with fury. "That's what you've done, Spyro. You've _screwed it all up!_"

Spyro yelled in shock as Alta suddenly flung him away from the pillar, sending him tumbling across the ground like a limp doll. By the time Spyro managed to raise his head, Alta was already standing in front of him again. But his expression had changed slightly. The anger was still there, but it was masked behind an expression of bitter sadness and accusation. Spyro stared.

"You stopped my prophecy from coming true," Alta muttered again, and he looked as though he was on the verge of tears. "Spyro, the mighty _hero_, has defied destiny and stopped what was meant to occur. You've destroyed this world by saving it…you are no more a hero than Malefor was."

Perhaps it was that Alta had compared him to his mortal enemy, but something that the grey dragon had said caused Spyro's blood to boil with rage. He struggled back to his feet, furious that he had let this foolish dragon get the better of him.

"You're a liar," he spat, lilac eyes filled with bitter hatred. "I'm nothing like Malefor. I saved this world because it was meant to be saved—regardless of what you saw! Your prophecy meant nothing!"

Alta's eyes flashed, "How _dare _you?"

Unwillingly, Spyro had just uttered the greatest insult one could ever give to an oracle dragon. Alta was too furious to even lash out at the purple dragon, his whole body trembling with an anger the likes of which he'd never felt before. Spyro narrowed his eyes, unaware how deeply he'd offended the grey dragon.

"My prophecy is not meaningless!" Every syllable shook with rage as Alta spoke, "It is the fate of this world—it was meant to occur! And it _will _occur!"

"I will cleanse this world of dragon life," Alta roared, "and fulfil the vision that I foresaw! And to do that I need to rid the world of those in my way…starting with the one who ruined it all before! You."

Spyro took a step back, looking at Alta with disgust, "You're insane!"

But far from it being an insult, Alta seemed to find it amusing. Indeed, the bitterness vanished briefly off his face as he replied, "Why, thank you, Spyro. They say the greatest minds are those that lack sanity."

Spyro's face was filled with disgust and pity as he looked upon the oracle dragon.

"And what will you do once you get rid of me?" Spyro asked bitterly. "Kill your own family?"

Alta's smile dropped off his face again, "Oh no, Spyro, they're already dead. Killed by Malefor's apes…wicked things. I watched them tear apart my parents, but I never saw what happened to my brother. Of course, they did leave something for me to remember him by…"

The grey dragon trailed off, looking sadistically amused about something. Spyro was afraid to ask, but he didn't have to.

"You're wondering what they left, aren't you?" Alta asked, smirking, "They left my older brother's tailblade and a pool of his own blood—the last remaining relics of his foolish existence."

Spyro felt sick just imagining the gruesome image. He couldn't imagine how Alta could speak of it so calmly or, even worse, with that look of sick amusement on his face. Spyro came to a realisation at that moment, upon gazing at Alta's cold-eyed amusement. This oracle dragon had truly lost his grip on sanity.

"You're sick," the purple dragon muttered, but Alta only shook his head.

"No, it's the apes who are 'sick', Spyro. It was they who did it, not me," Alta grinned. "I never saw my brother again—dead or alive. After that, it was just me. Until I met the grublins and convinced them to help me get revenge. Now, Spyro, it's time to fulfil my prophecy. Starting with your death."

Spyro's body instantly tensed into a battle stance. There was no way he was getting out of this fight, but he knew he didn't want to. There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to tear this mad oracle dragon limb from limb. The fires around them glinted off the whites of Spyro's eyes and he uttered only two words in challenge.

"Bring it."

**A/N: Yeah...Alta's a crazy oracle dragon. This was the longest chapter yet and I'm quite proud of it. But I'd really like to know what everyone thinks! How am I doing? Am I keeping your interest; is it confusing you; is everyone still enjoying this? Maybe I should write shorter chapters... Tell me what you think, because I really enjoy hearing from people! Oh, and thank you to Bydd bith, bizzleb, dragontrainer16, AvatarFan1, and falcoraqx for reviewing on the previous chapter. :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading!**


	23. Fighting for Control

**A/N: Something to address before we begin this chapter. In regards to The C00l One's review on the previous chapter about the number of grublins, he's absolutely right. 500 grublins isn't nearly enough, I now realise, so I suggest you ignore the number I mentioned in the previous chapter. I think 10 000 is a little too much, but I'd say about 1000-2000 grublins is a fair number. Remember there's only about a hundred dragons overall in Warfang at the moment, and I wanted a small enough number that the dragons might possibly be able to beat them back. But yeah, 500 is far too little. My bad. ^^' Now, on with the chapter.**

**Extra A/N: The number of grublins in the previous chapter has now been edited to match this one. Thanks again to The C00l One for his advice.**

**23. Fighting for Control**

Spyro circled slowly around Alta, never showing the grey dragon his back. He could feel the blood pumping hotly through his head, a dull throbbing behind his eyes. The beating of his own heart seemed magnified as it beat a constant rhythm against his eardrums. He wanted to fight as hate emanated off his body in waves, his lips curling to reveal sharp ivory fangs. But he made no move to attack.

Alta watched Spyro closely, sidestepping in time with him, creating a sort of unusual dance as they circled one another. His sharp blue eyes didn't miss a thing.

"Not brave enough to make the first move, Spyro?" Alta taunted, allowing himself a cocky smirk. Spyro responded only by narrowing his threatening violet eyes.

The grey dragon shrugged. "Well then, allow me."

The speed with which he moved was far more than Spyro was expecting. Alta was but a grey blur as he launched himself at the purple dragon and rammed straight into his golden chest. Spyro felt something snap, perhaps a rib, as the force of the attack sent him flying backwards. Pain lanced through his body and he lay for several moments, shocked and robbed of breath. How had Alta moved so fast?

"Come on, Spyro," said the grey dragon's voice from somewhere beside him, "up you get. We've got a battle to fight, there's no time for resting!"

Hearing Alta's mocking chuckles caused Spyro's heart to fill with rage again and he pushed himself to his feet so quickly that it caught the grey dragon off guard. At least…Spyro thought it did. But as he made to lash out at his enemy, intending to cut deep into the grey dragon's shoulder, he found that his claws met only empty air. The missed strike caused him to stumble and he was knocked over yet again as Alta's tail whipped mercilessly into his side.

Snarling angrily, Spyro spun back to his feet and launched himself at his enemy. Again, Alta somehow dodged without a scratch and counterattacked by gripping one of Spyro's wings in his jaws and using the purple dragon's momentum to throw him into the nearby wall. The stone cracked on impact and Spyro landed awkwardly in a heap, blinking dust and debris from his eyes. Alta had taken a step back and was observing him with a look of boredom on his face.

"Really, Spyro, I expected better from the purple dragon," he mocked. "You're not holding back are you? Come on, give me everything you've got. I'm waiting."

Spyro lay for a few more moments, Alta's words ringing through his head. He allowed his anger to diminish slowly, knowing it was causing him to act rashly and hindering his better judgement. Breathing slowly to calm himself, Spyro closed his eyes and searched briefly for a strategy hovering somewhere in the back of his mind. Rushing blindly wasn't helping; he needed a plan.

"Everything I've got," the purple dragon muttered softly, opening his eyes a crack. "Very well…if that's what you want, that's what I'll give you."

Alta's cocky expression faltered suddenly, a look of confusion crossing his face for some unknown reason. He took a worried step back, as though he had just seen something that had scared him, but he got no further. Spyro surged to his feet, his body glowing blue briefly with energy, and suddenly everything seemed to stop. It was as though the world had frozen and everything had taken on a faded blue hue.

Alta stood stock still, his eyes wide, as stiff as a statue. Even the flames around them seemed to have stopped their frantic flickering and were reaching upwards like bizarre red plants. Only Spyro was unaffected by the frozen world. This was his power, a power so strange that only the purple dragon himself could wield and control it, the power to slow down and almost stop time itself. This was the power of Dragon Time.

Spyro knew he couldn't hold it for long, the amount of power it took was astounding, so he acted as quickly as he could. Bracing his neck muscles for the impact that was to come, the purple dragon launched himself at the frozen Alta and his head collided painfully with his enemy's ivory chest. Just as he struck Alta, he let his grip of time go and everything suddenly returned to normal.

Alta was thrown backwards, slamming limply into a nearby pillar with enough force to break something. But though he dropped limply to the ground, he somehow managed to push his aching body upright once more. His blue eyes searched out Spyro, who was standing a few feet away and panting heavily as though he had just exerted a great amount of energy. Alta was trembling with shock.

"What was…?" the grey dragon gaped, wincing. "What happened?"

Spyro glared hatefully, "You're not the only one who can move fast, Alta."

Alta stared, scowling with confusion. He couldn't grasp what had happened. One second Spyro had been panting on the ground, the next Alta had found himself sprawled painfully a few feet away. How had Spyro moved so fast? There was no speed in the world that could allow the purple dragon to pull such an act off.

"That wasn't speed," Alta snarled, limping closer to his adversary, "that was something else."

Spyro watched the grey dragon closely, "You're intuitive, aren't you? You're right of course…that wasn't speed. That was just another of my powers as the purple dragon."

"What did you do?" Alta asked, both wary and curious.

But Spyro smirked humourlessly and replied, "Why don't you try to figure it out?"

Alta snarled. He was about to attack again when suddenly Spyro was right in front of him, using his tail as a whip to send him crashing to the ground. The grey dragon snarled as his chin connected painfully with the ground and by the time he had struggled to his feet, Spyro was well out of his range. Alta couldn't begin to fathom how he could shift places so quickly.

"Understand yet?" Spyro asked, smirking now.

Alta glared and didn't reply. Like a lethal bullet he shot towards Spyro and reared upwards to slash at the purple dragon with his front claws. But Spyro was no longer there. Confused, Alta was about to turn around when he felt his adversary's sharp claws dig into the flesh of his flank. He roared in pain and tried to jerk away.

"Too slow!" he heard the purple dragon yell, much to his irritation.

Spyro released the grey dragon and leapt away before he could retaliate. Alta snarled angrily, his nostrils flaring as blood pulsed from the wounds in his flank. He turned to the purple dragon, his eyes burning with rage.

"How are you doing this?" he roared, no longer the cocky dragon he was moments ago.

Spyro smiled wryly, "You still don't know, huh? I'll give you a clue: you're out of time."

Alta stared and suddenly something clicked in his mind. He stared at Spyro in disbelief, "You're manipulating time!"

"Very good," Spyro praised mockingly. "Slowing it down, to be precise. It's one of the stranger powers that the purple dragon can wield…"

Alta seemed to have calmed down now, as though the knowledge of what Spyro was doing had suddenly made it less formidable. He looked over his opponent thoughtfully, the sudden break in fighting allowing both dragons to catch their breath.

"I see," Alta sighed at last, "well, I would expect no less from the purple dragon. It seems now that we're picking it up a notch. Well, guess what Spyro? Now it's my turn."

Spyro didn't like the confidence in his voice. Wary of what was about to happen, Spyro tensed his body and gathered his energy, ready to invoke Dragon Time at any given moment. For a moment Alta stood stock still, facing Spyro, and then suddenly he wasn't there any more. Startled, Spyro instantly slowed time down once more. But though he looked around frantically at his frozen surroundings, he found no sign of the grey dragon. Something was wrong. Spyro was worried about releasing his hold on time, but he knew he couldn't keep it up forever. As his energy slowly drained, Spyro had no choice but to return time to its normal state and prepare for whatever Alta had in store for him.

No sooner had he released Dragon Time did he feel a gust of wind somewhere near his shoulder. He jumped, spinning quickly to face whatever it was, but saw nothing. Trembling, Spyro looked behind him for any sign of the grey dragon. Nothing. Then, suddenly, a ghostly, mocking voice hissed in his ear.

"No matter how fast you move…" it whispered, and Spyro spun towards the disembodied voice. Again, he saw nothing.

"…you can't fight a foe you can't see," the voice finished, sounding as though it was right behind the purple dragon.

A scream of pain ripped from Spyro's throat as a set of invisible claws sank deep into his back, causing blood to spurt from the wounds and gush over his scales. He collapsed trembling on the ground, gasping for air, and observed Alta appearing out of nowhere right in front of him. The grey dragon looked down upon his adversary, his eyes glinting with sick triumph.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he smirked bitterly.

Spyro swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, pushing the pain to the back of his mind as he struggled to stand up. Alta wrinkled his nose in disgust as Spyro's blood splashed across the ground.

"Wh-What did you do?" the purple dragon managed to ask. "How did you…?"

Grinning wickedly, Alta moved so close that his snout was almost touching Spyro's and hissed, "Why don't you try to figure it out?"

Hot anger boiled through Spyro's veins. Before Alta could react, the purple dragon had slowed time to the point where it almost stopped and slashed the grey dragon furiously across the face. As time returned to normal, Alta found himself on the ground with several bloodied gashes torn across his cheek and snout. He blinked the blood from his eyes and picked himself up, giving Spyro a very bitter look.

"That wasn't very nice, Spyro," he spat, droplets of blood rolling from his muzzle to splash upon the ground.

Spyro was about to reply with something cocky, when suddenly Alta disappeared again. The purple dragon let loose a torrent of flame in the direction that Alta had previously been, hoping to somehow stop the grey dragon. But it was to no avail. His head snapped back as something struck him from beneath his chin, and he found himself on his back with an invisible force holding him down. Spyro snarled, and suddenly the air above him seemed to shimmer and Alta appeared once more.

The grey dragon leant over Spyro, pinning him to the ground with his body and claws, breathing heavily as his own blood dripped unpleasantly onto the purple dragon's muzzle. Spyro grimaced and snarled, lashing his tail angrily as he struggled to push Alta off.

"Get off me!" he snarled, and choked as Alta pressed a claw to his neck.

"Not likely," the grey dragon snapped, "I'm going to kill you here. I will be the last thing you ever see, Spyro."

His claw dug into the soft flesh of Spyro's neck, drawing blood, and the purple dragon squirmed desperately. Opening his jaws, Spyro suddenly spat out a flurry of small icicles that stabbed mercilessly into Alta's face. The grey dragon screamed in pain and reared back, pawing desperately at his stinging face and eyes. Spyro took the chance to scramble upright and unleash another wave of flame. But Alta seemed to have known it was coming and rolled to the side in time to avoid more injury.

Again he disappeared into the air and Spyro suddenly understood what was going on. Quickly he leapt into the air and heard the scrabbling of claws beneath him as his invisible opponent missed the strike. The purple dragon landed as Alta reappeared.

"I know what you're doing," Spyro said, pacing slowly in front of the grey dragon. "You're turning invisible. I don't know how you're doing it, but there's no other explanation for it."

Alta looked mildly impressed, "Well, Spyro, you're just as smart as I expected. I think it's time I revealed a few of my…_secrets_…to you."

"Oh?" Spyro raised an eyebrow.

Alta seemed to have stopped being hostile for the moment, and both dragons faced each other as they caught their breath. The grey dragon gestured to the strange helmet he sported.

"You see these?" he asked Spyro, turning around to show off the ring around his tail as well. "They're all artefacts made by my clan. Do you know what they do?"

Spyro shook his head, curious. Smiling, Alta explained.

"They give me certain powers—abilities—that I would not normally have. These anklets…" he held out his foreleg, showing off the silver ring around his ankle. "They bestow upon me great speed. I can move faster than any dragon with these in my possession."

Spyro looked surprised, but Alta wasn't done. He swung his tail to the font, showing off the translucent ring around it.

"This tail ring is made from a very special spirit gem, one that is so hard to find it is considered a myth. This allows my body to merge with my surroundings, to become _invisible_ as you put it."

Spyro nodded, his eyes turning to the helmet and the rings around his horns, "And what about those?"

Alta reached up to tap the helmet with a claw, "This? Aside from protecting my head, this helmet helps me with something very useful. A normal dragon could find no use for this particular artefact, but as an oracle dragon I find it most valuable indeed."

"What does it do?"

Alta grinned, "It enhances my ability to _see _things. With this on, my oracle abilities are enhanced ten-fold. I can see things moments before they happen. Do you know what that means, Spyro?"

"It means…" Spyro narrowed his eyes, understanding, but Alta finished for him.

"It means I know every move that you're going to make, moments before you actually do make it!" The grey dragon looked thrilled at his own ability.

Spyro snorted, "That's a cowardly ability. But what about those rings on your horns, do they…?"

Alta tossed his head, grinning wickedly, "Oh, I'll show you what they do. Just stay there."

Spyro was about to respond when suddenly the ground beneath him seemed to shift. Alarmed, he looked down to see the rocks beneath his feet were breaking apart and lifting him into the air. His gaze snapped towards Alta, who seemed to be concentrating hard, and he noticed that the rings around his horns were glowing a vibrant, electric blue. There was no doubt he was responsible for this. With a sharp jerk of his head, Alta sent both Spyro and the rocks flying into the nearby wall. The purple dragon felt the wind leave his body for the hundredth time and found himself on the ground yet again.

"You see?" Alta said, as Spyro pushed himself upright. "This is a power that I'm sure even you don't have. As long as I wear these rings, I can move whatever I want without even touching it. Clever, no?"

But Spyro didn't seem impressed. He glared bitterly at Alta, his body covered with dust and blood, "So all your powers come from the pieces of jewellery you're wearing? Don't you have any powers of your own? That's not something to be proud of, Alta, relying on these artefacts to give you strength. All it proves is that you're weak without them."

Alta's cocky expression vanished instantly to be replaced by bitter hatred.

"Silence!" he roared, slamming Spyro into the wall with a jerk of his head and a little help from the rings around his horns. "I will not have you speak to me that way!"

Spyro picked himself up again, breathing heavily, "I think it's time we finished this."

Alta snorted, "I couldn't agree more, Spyro."

* * *

Grublins—everywhere. Hunter found himself beset on all sides by hundreds of the hideous, howling creatures. The small squadron of dragons that Seriphos had managed to scrounge up was far too little to deal with the huge hoard of grublins that were ransacking the city. They had thirty dragons at the most, perhaps less, facing an army of ancestors-knew how many grublins. It was all they could do to keep themselves alive.

The rest of the population of dragons had found shelter in the atrium, along with the moles, and the guardians were protecting the building from the attacking beasts. But the rest of the city was already overrun, and it seemed impossible that the tiny squadron of dragons could succeed in driving them out. Nevertheless, despite the seemingly hopeless situation, the dragons didn't give in.

"Keep strong!" Seriphos roared over the noise, smashing two grublins in half at once with his club-like tailblade. "We can win this! Don't give up!"

Waves of heated fire spread through the ranks of grublins as Delos unleashed his fury. The red dragon huffed with exhaustion and yelled back to Seriphos, "We're doing the best we can! There's too many of them!"

"We must not give in!" Hunter panted, slashing at the grublins with his dagger. His bow and quiver of arrows lay forgotten on the ground, useless against enemies at this close range. Blood was pouring from a nick in his ear and a gash above his right eye, obscuring his vision. But the cheetah didn't back down.

Nearby, Naxos unleashed a roar as he swung his tail around, charging electricity through his tailblade as it slammed into several screaming grublins. Chios fought not far away, spitting deadly bullets of rock at her foes and panting heavily with exhaustion. Around them, the other dragons of the squadron fought tooth and claw against the beasts, using their own respective elements. It seemed like a hopeless fight, but Seriphos was sure that they were slowly pushing the grublins back.

The ground beneath his claws cracked as he tore chunks of rock from the earth and hurled them mercilessly at his foes. His body glowed green with energy, pillars of rock spouting from the earth around him as he fought with all his strength. There were no creatures that could stand up to the power of the furious earth dragon. After all, Seriphos had learned from the best.

Hunter yelled in pain as the spear of a rogue grublin found its mark in his thigh, piercing through his thick golden fur and drawing blood. The cheetah found himself on his knees, the only protection between him and the beasts being the tiny dagger clutched in his paw. Blood flowed into his eyes and his whole body ached. He knew this was likely to be his last struggle, but he was determined not to go down without a fight.

Surging back to his feet and tearing the spear from his leg, Hunter slashed another grublin with his dagger and rolled out of the way of a wildly flailing club. He reached desperately for his bow, grasping it and scrambling out of the way of another spear just in time. With his bow in one paw and his dagger in the other, the cheetah leapt into the fray without a second thought. He used his bow like a sword, slashing at the grublins with every ounce of strength and skill he had. But they struck back, inflicting wound after wound upon the seasoned warrior.

Again he found himself on the ground, panting heavily, and found himself gazing into the eyes of a hideous grublin. It pointed its spear at Hunter's throat and the cheetah realised this was the end. There was nothing more he could do. The dragons were too occupied by the other grublins to come to his aid and he had no more strength left to fight back. Closing his eyes, Hunter turned his face away and waited for the end to come.

But it never came. Instead he heard the sound of something zipping through the air, followed by a dull thud and a gurgling cry. He opened his eyes in time to see the grublin in front of him collapse with an arrow through its neck. Eyes wide, Hunter raised his head to stare at his saviour. A dark orange-furred cheetah stood before him, holding a longbow with another arrow ready to fire in his paws. There was no mistaking him.

"Alright, Hunter?" Prowlus asked, smirking confidently at his best warrior.

"Chief Prowlus!" Hunter gasped, struggling to get upright. "When did you…?"

The cheetah chief strode forwards and extended a paw to help Hunter up. Hunter took the offered paw gratefully, allowing the chief to haul him upright.

"We just arrived," Prowlus replied. "I was afraid we might be too late, but it seems we got here just in time."

Hunter raised a paw to wipe the blood from his eyes, "You did. The grublins are too many. But with your help, we may just be able to push them back."

Prowlus looked swiftly over the cheetah warrior, noticing his injuries, "You are wounded, Hunter."

"It's nothing," Hunter brushed off his concern, ignoring the pain in his leg, "I'll be fine. Come, we need to help the dragons."

"Right you are, Hunter," Prowlus replied, notching an arrow to his bow. "Let us take this city back."

Hunter retrieved his dagger and bow from where he had dropped them, returning swiftly to Prowlus's side. Together, the two cheetahs turned to join the rest of the forces in fighting off the grublins.

"Beside you all the way," Hunter replied, suddenly confident as he watched cheetahs and dragons fighting alongside one another.

With no second thoughts, the two warriors leapt into the fray.

* * *

A squeal of fear escaped Ember's lips as Flame flung himself bodily at her and Cynder. She felt the black dragoness shove her out of the way and looked fearfully towards them in time to see Cynder and Flame locked together in a battle of physical strength. They rolled over one another, biting and clawing, each trying to gain the upper hand. Ember backed away, trembling, and heard Sparx chanting something above her head with his hands pressed over his eyes. It sounded something like 'oh no, oh crap, oh no, oh no, oh crap…' and might have been amusing to the pink dragoness if things hadn't been so serious.

Flame and Cynder sprang apart, leaping to opposite sides of the walkway and starting to circle one another. Ember swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding hard against her breastbone. There was nothing she could do to quell that feeling of fear that swam in her veins.

Cynder gnashed her teeth warningly, "I suggest you stop this, Flame, before I get serious."

The red dragon answered with a vicious snarl, sounding more like a wild animal than a civilised dragon. Cynder narrowed her eyes, her tail lashing dangerously as she waited for him to strike. He did so with incredible speed, feinting to the left and catching Cynder off guard when he instead attacked from the right. She gave a gasp of pain as his claws raked across her side and stumbled away from his biting jaws. Ember whimpered fearfully.

"Take that!" Cynder snapped, swinging her tail around and knocking Flame's legs out from under him.

The red dragon rolled on the ground and sprang back to his feet in time to spring upon Cynder and pin her to the ground. Her tailblade swished upwards and cut deep into his cheek, causing him to stagger backwards and release her. Leaping back to her feet, Cynder emitted a blast of strong wind from her maw and sent her opponent careening backwards head over heels. Flame managed to catch himself before he fell from the high perch on which they fought and counterattacked with a comet dash that sent him straight into the startled Cynder.

Her scream was cut short as the wind was pushed forcefully out of her lungs and she ended up a few feet away, her scales smoking. Flame shook the fire off his own scales and slowly prowled closer to the prostrate black dragoness. But he didn't get very far before a voice reach him from behind.

Ember had been watching everything, trembling on the sidelines and not knowing how to help. But as she watched Flame beat Cynder to the ground, Ember knew she had to do _something_. So she did the first thing that came to mind.

"Flame!" the pink dragoness screamed, catching his attention. He turned towards her, his lustreless eyes filled with hate.

Ember hesitated momentarily and then begged, "Please, stop this!"

Flame answered by baring his teeth, turning around fully to face her, and a deep growl echoed in his throat. Ignoring Cynder, he turned his attention instead upon Ember, much to her terror. He stalked closer, ready to spring upon her, and Ember's eyes filled with tears.

"Flame," she begged, her voice shaking. "Please stop this. Stop, please."

But he didn't heed her words; he didn't even seem to hear them. Ember couldn't stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks, or the shaking of her body both from grief and fear. How could she face Flame like this? He was her best friend, the one dragon she had always gone to when she needed help, the one dragon she trusted more than any other. But here, facing her now, this was not the Flame she had grown up with. This was not the dragon she had fallen in love with.

"Flame, please," Ember sobbed, her tears splashing on the ground as she watched him approach like a predator stalking its prey. "Please!"

But she got no more words in before he attacked. Shutting her eyes tight, Ember jerked her face away as he leapt for her, expecting to feel his claws piercing her flesh at any moment. But suddenly Cynder was there, wrestling him away, sinking her teeth into his neck and pushing him backwards. Flame roared in pain and anger, his tail lashing and his talons clawing for a hold on the black dragoness. Ember watched with tears in her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing: what her dear friend had become.

"He won't listen to you, Ember!" Cynder yelled, as she extracted herself from Flame and leapt back to the pink dragoness. "You can't just stand there and beg him to stop. You need to fight!"

But Ember shook her head roughly, sending tears flying as she sobbed, "I can't! I can't fight Flame like this! H-He's my friend! I d-don't want to hurt him, I-I can't—!"

Cynder turned and smashed her tail into Flame's face as he tried again to leap at them. The action sent him reeling across the walkway and he stood for a moment pawing at the stinging wound on his muzzle. Cynder turned furiously back to Ember, her eyes burning with anger and impatience.

"You have to! I know he's your friend, but you can't just stand back and let him kill you! You need to fight! He's not the friend you once knew! You have to fight him!"

"How can you say that?" Ember shot back, her voice trembling with emotion as tears ran down her face. "Don't you understand what it's like to see a friend like this? What if it was _Spyro_? What then, Cynder?"

The black dragoness froze, startled by the question. She fell silent, suddenly ashamed and saddened as she watched Flame wipe blood from his face and turn to face them. The rings around his ankles shimmered red for a moment, and his injuries disappeared almost instantly, to her shock. His eyes were void of emotion, void of the confidence and life that had once made them so bright. He appeared no more than a monster, a being without heart or soul, no longer the dragon he once was.

Cynder's eyes stung with tears as her thoughts turned to Spyro. What if it was Spyro? How could she face Spyro like this, knowing that he was no more than a monster, merely a shell of his former self? Her thoughts turned to that entity they called Dark Spyro and Cynder realised she understood just how Ember felt at this moment. Scared; alone; afraid to lose the one dragon she cared for more than any other. How must she be feeling to face Flame like this?

"I understand, Ember," Cynder sighed, blinking away the tears in her eyes. "I know how you feel, and I'm sorry. I know it's hard to face someone you love like this and I know that you don't want to hurt him. But I don't see any other way. He doesn't even recognise us, Ember! He'll kill us if we don't fight back!"

A tear rolled down her cheek and she turned to face the pink dragoness, "We have to do something to help him, to stop him, even if it means hurting him. Please, Ember, believe that I understand how you feel. I only want to help."

Ember stared at the black dragoness, watching as her emerald eyes shed tears over her black-scaled cheeks. There were so many emotions in those eyes; sadness, hurt, worry, fear. But Ember could see clearly the understanding that was shining in Cynder's vibrant eyes.

"I believe you," the pink dragoness replied, her own tears flowing freely. "And I want to help, too. We can save Flame, I know we can. I know that he's in there somewhere…we just have to help him get out."

"And that is just what we'll do," Cynder cracked a watery smile, "we'll save him together. Jus—"

"Look out!" Ember screamed, cutting Cynder off and leaping towards the black dragoness paws first.

Cynder yelped in shock as she was pushed sideways and heard a scream as Flame landed on top of Ember, sending the both of them rolling towards the edge of the high walkway. Sparx still wasn't looking, his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, though he could clearly hear everything that was going on. Ember squirmed to get up, but Flame pinned her to the ground and began to bite down on her throat. She choked, gasping as her air supply was slowly cut off.

"Ember!" Cynder shrieked, scrambling to her feet and leaping towards them. "Let her go!"

She bit down hard on Flame's wing, and the red dragon howled in pain, releasing Ember from the grasp of his jaws. Cynder gripped harder and pulled back as hard as she could, dragging him off the pink dragoness and onto his back. Releasing his wing, Cynder spat a glob of his blood out of her mouth and circled around until she was between him and Ember. She snarled menacingly and Flame slunk backwards, nursing his injured wing. Again his anklets pulsed, and the wound knitted itself together slowly. Anxious, Cynder turned her head towards the pink dragoness behind her.

Ember lay on her back, blood leaking from several puncture wounds in her neck, breathing quickly and clearly in shock. Ignoring Flame, who seemed to be sulking for the moment, Cynder backed up to the pink dragoness's side.

"Ember, are you okay?" she asked anxiously, and Ember blinked a few times before coming back to reality.

Her breathing slowed to a more normal rate and she rolled onto her side, looking up at Cynder.

"I-I'm okay," Ember stuttered, reaching a paw up to her neck, "it's not too bad."

"Good," Cynder sighed, relieved, and turned her gaze back to Flame. "Now we just need to figure out what to do with him."

Ember stared for a long moment at the red dragon, who was currently licking the blood off his now healed wing. Physically he looked just like the dragon she had known since childhood, and Ember was sure that the real him was trapped somewhere inside him. Somehow, she had to reach it.

"Let me try," Ember begged, standing up. "Maybe…maybe I can reach him. I know that the real Flame is still there, somewhere. Just maybe, I might be able to reach him."

Cynder hesitated, clearly dubious about this plan, "Ember…"

But the pink dragoness wouldn't take no for an answer.

"At least let me try!" she insisted. "Please, Cynder! Maybe it will work! It can't hurt to try."

The black dragoness sighed, gazing upon her friend's determined expression. What more could she say? Ember deserved to try at least. After all, Flame was her friend. She deserved at least to try to reach that better part of him. Reluctantly, Cynder nodded her head and agreed.

"Alright," she consented. "Do what you can. I don't know if it will work, but we have to try."

"That's all I ask," Ember replied and turned her azure eyes on Flame, who was now glaring at her as he pondered whether to attack or not.

Warily, the pink dragoness began to approach the dragon that had once been her friend. The closer she approached, the more he snarled, and neither dragoness was aware of the fire that was building in the back of his throat. Licking her dry lips, Ember edged closer and closer as Cynder tensed herself for action should Flame attack.

"Flame?" Ember asked quietly. "Can you hear me? Do you remember who I am?"

The red dragon didn't respond, but Cynder saw him shift slightly into a more defensive stance.

"It's me, Ember," the pink dragoness continued, "your friend. Remember? We've always been friends, you and me, since we were hatchlings. I know you remember, Flame…"

The red dragon hesitated, and something in his eyes seemed to flicker and change. Realising she was getting through to him, Ember slowly began to inch closer. But Cynder had a bad feeling, as though some unseen force was warning her that Flame was about to attack.

"That's right," Ember cooed, "I know you remember me, Flame. All you have to do is remember and everything will be alright."

Flame's eyes glinted and he lowered his head slightly, his lips parting as though he was about to speak. Ember leaned closer, expecting him to say something. But suddenly she heard Cynder shriek "Watch out!" and felt something grab her from behind.

Cynder leapt forward and grabbed Ember from behind, rolling the two of them out of the way as Flame opened his jaws and emitted a raging torrent of burning fire right on the spot where Ember had been standing seconds before. The two dragonesses rolled to a stop and Cynder leapt up, diving for Flame as he turned to attack again. Ember lay stunned for a few moments, shocked by what had just happened, but the shrieks and roars as Cynder and Flame fought brought her back to her senses.

She rolled back to her feet and hurried forwards to where Cynder and Flame were locked together in mortal combat. Blood splashed the ground as both dragons sustained injury in their fight. Ember knew she had to stop them somehow, before they were both killed.

"Flame! Flame, please! Please stop this!" she yelled, her voice breaking again. "Stop it! Stop it, Flame!"

Again he didn't listen to her, but Ember didn't give up. Again and again she shrieked his name, louder and louder, begging for him to stop, begging for him to acknowledge her, to remember. The more she yelled, the more her voice became shrill, and she watched Flame tear gashes in Cynder's flank with tears in her eyes. The black dragoness staggered away from her opponent, breathing heavily and covered in wounds, but Flame once more went in for the kill.

Before he reached Cynder, however, Ember planted herself firmly between the two and glared him straight in the eye. He didn't falter, leaping towards her with claws outstretched for the kill.

"Flame!" Ember shrieked, well aware that this could be her last chance. "Stop! Remember me! Remember us! STOP, FLAME!"

It was as though something in his subconsciousness had snapped. Flame suddenly halted, digging his claws into the stone and falling backwards, his eyes wide as he stared at Ember. She stared back, her azure eyes burning into his golden ones, and he felt something familiar tugging at the back of his mind.

"Flame?" Ember asked gently, and the red dragon blinked a few times in confusion.

Then, suddenly, to everyone's surprise, he opened his mouth and muttered, "Em...ber?"

Joy filled Ember's face and she almost leapt on her friend, but restrained herself. Flame looked as though he was struggling with a hard-to-remember memory, when suddenly he clutched at his head and began to moan. Startled, Ember could only stare at him in shock.

"F-Flame, what is it?" she yelped, stepping forwards, but Cynder stopped her.

"Hold on, I think he's struggling with something," The black dragoness muttered, staring hard at the red dragon.

The howls of the red dragon became louder and louder as he clutched at his skull, and he was soon thrashing on the floor as though in agony. Ember looked increasingly alarmed by his actions, but Cynder's attention was on something else. Around Flame's neck something was flickering. On and off; on and off. The necklet was becoming confusing, appearing and disappearing as Flame struggled to overcome its power and the voice in his head. His roars became louder and louder with every second.

"Flame!" cried Ember, eyes filling with tears.

"He's fighting whatever it is that's controlling him!" Cynder yelped, eyes wide. "Come on, Flame, you can do it!"

"Fight it, Flame!" Ember agreed, catching on. "I know you can do it! I know you're strong enough! You can win!"

There was nothing more they could do but shout encouragement to the red dragon as he struggled with the power that was controlling him.

* * *

Spyro was panting heavily. He and Alta had been at it for a while, both seemingly evenly matched. Even with all of his elemental powers, as well as the power of Dragon Time, Spyro didn't seemed to be able to get the upper hand on Alta. He couldn't hold Dragon Time forever, and it didn't help when Alta frequently turned invisible. Add to that the fact that the grey dragon knew every move he was going make, and Spyro had a real challenge on his paws.

But there was one thing he was sure could win him the battle, if only he could find the energy to do it. The power of convexity was a strange and unusual ability he had picked up during the war, and it was that which had saved him from Malefor. He was sure that with that power, Alta would stand no chance. But in his exhaustion, Spyro found that the power he needed refused to come to him.

The two dragons circled each other, both breathing heavily, both covered in wounds and injuries, both exhausted from their fight. Spyro watched Alta closely, prepared for when the grey dragon would attack again.

"You're looking…a little tired…Spyro," Alta panted, his mouth hanging open as he gasped for air. "Too…much for you?"

"Speak for yourself," Spyro replied, gasping. "You're about…to drop."

Alta grinned, revealed glimmering white teeth stained with blood, "Looks like we're evenly matched. You really are a powerful dragon."

Spyro seemed to have regained most of his breath, "I'd say the same for you, but I'd be lying, seeing as all of your powers are _borrowed_."

Alta glared, offended, "I don't like your attitude. I think I'm about ready to finish this fight."

"Just you try it," Spyro snapped back, and dodged the swipe that Alta sent at him.

Invoking Dragon Time, Spyro leapt upwards and kicked out at the grey dragon with his hind legs. Alta rolled across the ground as Spyro released his hold on time. The purple dragon landed back on the ground, huffing, and closed his eyes. He sat for a few moments, feeling the energy around him, including that of Alta's as he sensed his opponent's movements through the earth. If only he had a little time to gather his energy, Spyro was sure he would be able to call on the power of convexity.

But his meditative state was interrupted by the screams of two dragonesses that echoed throughout the city. The purple dragon's eyes snapped open, alarm filling his violet eyes.

"Cynder! Ember!" he cried, momentarily forgetting about Alta as he turned towards the direction of the screams.

"Oh, don't worry about them," Alta called, catching Spyro's attention again. "Someone else is already _taking care _of them."

Spyro turned a suspicious, wary glance on Alta, "What do you mean…?"

He didn't like the grin on the grey dragon's face. Alta was looking very amused about something, and it gave Spyro a bad feeling.

"Let's just say they're reuniting with an _old friend_," he smirked, blue eyes twinkling merrily.

Spyro snarled, "Flame… _You're_ the one who's controlling him!"

"Clever, Spyro," Alta smirked, looking pleased. "That's right. I gave Flame a little necklet and promised him it would make him stronger. He's a gullible dragon, despite how stubborn he is."

Spyro's teeth were clenched in anger, "You're the one who made him attack me and Cynder."

"Yes, yes," Alta waved a paw as though it was of no concern. "But, you know, it's really _your_ fault he's under my control."

"What do you mean?" Spyro snapped, angry.

"Well, you're the reason he accepted the necklet in the first place," Alta replied, now beginning to circle Spyro. "You know he was _so _jealous of you, to the point where he hated even the sight of you. I promised that the necklet would help him defeat you, and he took it without even thinking about it. Stupid dragon. As his anger towards you grew, I gained more control over his weak, jealous mind. So really…"

Alta leaned close and murmured quietly in Spyro's ear, "It's his hatred of you that has made him my puppet! I can't thank you enough, Spyro the purple dragon."

A scream of anger ripped from Spyro's jaws and he lashed out at Alta with such strength that the grey dragon was sent tumbling over the ground with just a single strike. He leapt upright in time to avoid the bolt of electricity that Spyro had sent towards him. The purple dragon was furious and part of his darker half was beginning to awaken. Alta avoided strike after strike from the angry dragon, using his speed and foresight to his advantage. He could tell Spyro was getting angrier, but what he didn't realise was what was going on inside Spyro's head. Dark Spyro was beginning to take hold.

"Angry, aren't you?" Alta laughed, seemingly enjoying this as he danced out of the way for the hundredth time.

Spyro roared in response, struggling to regain a hold on his anger. No doubt he was beginning to fear that darker half of his mind. Alta was laughing heartily, as though this was all a game, when suddenly he felt something disturbing stir within his mind. He blinked, confused, and paused for a split second. That was all the time Spyro needed to land a hit. Alta's body went bouncing across the ground like a ragdoll and when he came to a stop he didn't leap to his feet like usual. Instead he rolled onto his knees and remained there, frowning as though thinking deeply of something.

Spyro seemed to notice the change in Alta's demeanour and his anger slowly diminished. Relieved, Spyro felt his darker half recede to the back of his mind once more. But his attention was soon drawn to Alta, who had his eyes screwed shut as though in pain.

"No," he was muttering. "Fight them, Flame. Kill them!"

Confused, Spyro inched closer to the grey dragon. Suddenly a pained howling filled the air, from somewhere within the city, and Alta's head shot up. His icy blue eyes were filled with panic and alarm, an expression that Spyro had never seen on him before.

"I'm losing him!" Alta screamed. "I'm losing him!"

Spyro stared, "Losing…who?"

Alta didn't seem to hear him—he was clutching at his head now, trembling, "He's fighting my control! How can he overcome the necklet's power? How? That damn pink dragoness!"

Suddenly Spyro realised who Alta was talking about. Flame must have been overcoming his mind control, overpowering the necklet that had ensnared his mind. A grim smile found its way onto Spyro's face. Flame was stronger than he thought.

"Looks like you underestimated Flame," he smirked, standing over the trembling grey dragon. "You can't control him anymore."

Alta screwed his eyes shut, "No, I can't lose him. I can't do this alone! No, no, no!"

Spyro was about to speak, when without warning Alta leapt into the sky and spread his ivory wings. The purple dragon stared up at him in shock, confused by what he was doing.

"We're leaving, Flame!" Alta screamed, both aloud and in his mind. "Now! We're leaving!"

"Leaving?" Spyro yelled up to his opponent. "Just when you were so close to succeeding? Are you a coward or what!"

But Alta seemed too panicked to think, and there was something strange going on with his eyes. They were darting backwards and forwards as though he didn't know which way to look. It looked to Spyro as though the grey dragon was losing his mind. Spyro watched as he wheeled away towards the northern wall, screaming for Flame and the grublins to retreat. The purple dragon could only stand in shock, staring after his former opponent, confused by how it had ended so fast. It was as though at the last moment, Alta had lost his nerve. At that moment, Spyro remembered Cynder and hurried off into the city to find her.

* * *

The squadron of dragons had been pushing the grublins back with the help of the cheetahs from Avalar. Slowly but surely they were pushing them back towards the crumbled north wall. They were beginning to become confident, but even they weren't expecting the beasts to suddenly turn tail and run. They watched in awe as a grey dragon soared over their heads, screaming for the grublins to retreat.

As though the word had been an order, the entire army of grublins turned away from the defending force and fled back through the hole in the north wall, leaving the city empty and confused. Seriphos, Hunter and Prowlus stood at the head of their combined squadrons, watching in amazement as the grublins fled from the city.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Seriphos muttered, confused.

The two cheetahs shook their heads and Hunter muttered softly, "I don't know, Seriphos. I don't know."

* * *

Cynder and Ember had been sure that Flame was going to win the battle of wills. But their hopes were dashed as they heard the sound of someone screaming "Retreat, Flame, retreat!" and the red dragon suddenly stopped howling. He looked confused for a moment before turning away from the dragonesses and hurrying for the edge of the platform.

"Flame, no!" Ember yelled, running towards him in hopes of intercepting him.

But there was nothing she could do as the red dragon leapt off the edge and soared into the sky, following a grey dragon that was flying swiftly away from the city. Ember stood as still as stone, staring after her friend with disbelief written across her features. She had been so sure she was going to get him back. So sure. But now he was gone, disappearing into the distance.

All Ember could do, as she watched Flame fly away from her, was hope that somehow he could be saved. Tears filled her eyes, rolling down her cheeks, and soon Cynder had joined her. Together, the two dragonesses stared into the distance in silence. Neither said a word as Ember sobbed quietly on Cynder's shoulder, her only comfort the crimson wing of the black dragoness that was draped gently around her shoulders.

**A/N: So many things in this story don't make sense...Alta especially. ^^' Why did he run away? The best answer I can come up with is he had a panic attack. He's also insane. Does that make sense? I probably should have put more thought into this. But, hey, you weren't expecting Alta to turn tail and flee were you? You know there's only four chapters to go...that's kinda sad. I hope you all enjoyed this hastily written chapter (it was written in a single day, you know!) Big thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter, and everyone who keeps reviewing again and again. I love you guys**.** :)**


	24. Alta's Vision, Spyro's Plan

**A/N: Fast update! Why is it that when I expect a chapter to be short, it ends up being freakishly long?**

**24. Alta's Vision; Spyro's Plan**

"Cynder?" Spyro called out to the empty city as he ran through the streets. Fires were still burning around him and he spat ice at them as he passed, hoping to put them out. Buildings were damaged and cracks had spread through the cobblestone streets as though the city had just been subjected to an earthquake. In the distance, Spyro could hear the last sounds of the grublins as they retreated from the north wall.

Spyro's wounds hurt. His whole body was aching and he could feel blood running down his scales. He was sure he was leaving a trail of the red liquid behind as he ran, but he didn't stop. He had to find Cynder and make sure that she was all right. But the more he ran, the more he felt dizzy from exhaustion and blood loss. Where was Cynder? He had to find her.

As he turned a corner, Spyro saw ahead of him a small squadron of dragons and cheetahs. They sat together in the streets, nursing injuries and looking both triumphant and confused. Not far away, Spyro could see the large green form of Seriphos and the golden fur of the familiar cheetah, Hunter. The purple dragon limped towards them, ignoring the stunned looks he was getting from the other dragons and cheetahs as he passed.

"Seriphos," Spyro wheezed as he got closer to the earth dragon.

The green dragon turned and his eyes widened at the sight of the battered and bloodied purple dragon.

"Spyro!" he yelped in alarm, but it was Hunter who dashed forwards and grabbed the purple dragon when he stumbled and fell.

The cheetah cradled the injured Spyro in his arms, kneeling on the ground as Seriphos and Prowlus stood over them. The purple dragon gazed up at them, his eyes misted over from pain and exhaustion.

"You're wounded, Spyro," Hunter murmured, though he too was covered in bleeding injuries. "What happened?"

"That…doesn't matter," Spyro groaned, attempting to push away from the cheetah and stand up. "I need to find Cynder. Have you seen her?"

Hunter held the purple dragon firmly, stopping him from getting up, "You shouldn't exert yourself. We haven't seen Cynder, but you know as well as I do that she can look after herself. She'll be okay."

But Spyro wouldn't hear it, "No, I need to find her. She could be hurt or…or worse…"

He struggled again to get away from Hunter's restraining paws, but found himself trapped when Prowlus knelt behind him and pushed him back down. The cheetah chief placed his paws on the young dragon's shoulders.

"You are in no shape to be wandering the city, young dragon," he warned, but his voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "Allow us to take you to the infirmary. Some of my warriors are injured too."

"N-No, I have to find Cynder!" Spyro protested again, and the two cheetahs looked hopelessly at Seriphos.

The green dragon sighed and turned his gaze to the dragons and cheetahs around him. Many were sporting injuries, some worse than others, and all looked extremely exhausted.

"We need to alert the guardians that the threat is gone," Seriphos said wisely. "I can do that. Prowlus, can you lead the rest of these dragons to the infirmary? I'll have the moles there as soon as possible."

The cheetah chief nodded stiffly, "Of course."

Seriphos glanced firmly at Spyro, "And you, purple dragon, are to go with them. Cynder will be fine; we will find her. Understand?"

He could tell just from looking at Spyro's eyes that the purple dragon wanted to protest. But he finally gave in and nodded reluctantly, much to Seriphos's relief. The green dragon soon turned away and headed towards the Atrium, only to be stopped by Naxos, who insisted on going with him. Spyro watched them leave, but his thoughts were fully on Cynder. Wherever the black dragoness was, he hoped she was all right.

"Come now," Prowlus said, standing up. "Let us head to the infirmary."

Slowly the squadron moved out and began a slow march towards the infirmary. Spyro found himself in the arms of an old friend—a friend that he had once saved during the war. Meadow seemed quite thrilled to return the favour.

"You're heavier than you look, Spyro," the orange-furred cheetah joked as he carried Spyro through the streets.

The purple dragon cracked a weak smile but didn't reply. Around them cheetahs and dragons were supporting each other, some carrying the injured, others being carried by the stronger. Prowlus was supporting Hunter, who was walking with a considerable limp thanks to the spear wound in his leg. Delos was leaning heavily on Chios, his wounds having opened again, causing him great pain. It was a sight that Spyro hadn't wanted to see again. The aftermath of war. The purple dragon could only be glad that, so far, no one had been killed.

* * *

Seriphos and Naxos found all four of the guardians stationed outside the huge doors of the Atrium, looking slightly battered but overall unharmed. They too looked considerably confused. Terrador glanced at the two younger dragons that were approaching, slightly surprised to see them.

"Seriphos, Naxos, what has happened?" the earth guardian asked, looking worried. "Why did the grublins retreat from this place?"

"It wasn't just this place they retreated from, Master Terrador," Seriphos replied, looking tired. "It was the whole city."

Cyril's eyes widened, "The whole city, you say?"

"Yes," Naxos replied. He too looked as though he were about to drop. "They've completely left the city. They're gone."

"Gone…" Thasos breathed, stunned.

"Astounding," Volteer added, staring around at the empty streets. "Simply astonishing that they would renounce after coming so close to victory."

"I've sent my squadron to the infirmary," Seriphos announced to Terrador. "Many of them are wounded, including Master Spyro."

The earth guardian was stunned, "Spyro is here?"

"Yes," Seriphos confirmed, "he looked severely beaten up. I've never seen him like that. I wonder what happened to him to get him in such a state…but we need the moles. They should be able to help with healing."

"Ah, of course," Terrador turned around and strode back to the Atrium doors. "Let's let them all out then, shall we?"

Together Terrador and Seriphos pushed the doors to the Atrium open.

* * *

Two dragonesses sat alone at the top of a building, gazing into the distance at the blue sky into which a friend had just disappeared. Neither said a word, but no words needed to be said. Ember had buried her face in Cynder's shoulder, shedding soundless tears as the black dragoness placed a comforting wing over her shoulders. They would have remained like that for a while, dwelling in grief and finding comfort in each other, had it not been for the dragonfly accompanying them.

Sparx had finally found the courage to open his eyes after realising it had been quiet for so long. He looked around, bemused to find that Flame was no longer in sight and Ember and Cynder sat crying quietly a small distance away. Scratching his head, the dragonfly hovered over to them.

"Hey, mind telling me what's going on here?" He asked.

Cynder raised her head, her eyes sunken with sadness, "Sparx…I forgot you were there."

"As everyone usually does," he muttered, looking rather miffed.

The black dragoness gazed out over the city stretched out below. It looked very empty now, void of the grublins that had previously been swarming the streets. It was a good thing that they were gone, but Flame had left with them. They had been so close to getting through to him, so close to getting him back, but they had failed. Cynder had never really liked the red dragon much. He was rude, violent and stubborn, and he was always picking fights with Spyro. But it had been her job to save him—a job that she'd failed. And she couldn't help but feel guilty, especially as Ember sobbed on her shoulder.

"Flame's gone," she told Sparx, her voice dull and flat. "He ran away."

The dragonfly was stunned, "He ran _away_? Man, talk about cowardliness. What's the matter, then? I mean, isn't it a good thing? That you're not dead, I mean…"

Cynder glared at him, much to his confusion, "No, Sparx, it's not good that he's gone. We could have saved him. We almost _did_. But…we failed. That's not good at all."

"O-Oh…" Sparx stuttered, slightly confused, and fell silent.

They sat in silence for a while, until the dragonfly spotted something down in the streets below. A group of dragons and what looked like cheetahs were making their way slowly through the city. He nudged Cynder and pointed, drawing her attention to them.

"Hey, look," Sparx murmured. "What do you suppose they're doing?"

Cynder stared, "That must be the defence force. Looks like they're heading for the infirmary."

"Huh," Sparx muttered, scratching his head, "You think Spyro's with them?"

At this, Cynder's head suddenly jerked up and her eyes widened in shock.

"Spyro!" She yelped. "I'd almost forgotten about him!"

Ember groggily raised her head off Cynder's shoulder, blinking watery eyes that were red and puffy from crying. The black dragoness looked very distressed as she gazed down on the entourage of dragons and cheetahs that were making their way to the infirmary. She seemed to be trying to catch a glimpse of Spyro to see if he was with them.

"We should go to the infirmary," the pink dragoness sniffled, her voice croaking slightly, "to see if he's there."

Cynder glanced at Ember, surprised that she had spoken. But the pink dragoness knew she couldn't stand here forever and grieve over the loss of her red friend. There were other dragons she needed to worry about, and Spyro was one of them.

"Y-You're right, let's go," Cynder stuttered, turning towards the stairs that would lead down to the ground. She didn't feel much like flying, especially with her injuries. Ember and Sparx followed close behind, neither saying a word but both equally as worried about the purple dragon.

* * *

The infirmary was busier than Cynder had ever seen it. Several dragons and cheetahs were splayed across cushions on the floor, watching curiously as moles dashed to and fro with arms full of red gems. The four guardians stood guard outside the doors, perhaps in the slim chance that the grublins should return. Cynder smiled at them as she limped through the doors with Ember at her side.

"There you are, Cynder," Terrador stopped her briefly. "We were about to send out scouts looking for you. You'd best head inside and get those wounds tended to."

"Yes, thank you Terrador," Cynder paused just as she was about to go through the doors, suddenly thinking of something.

"Is Spyro…?" she trailed off, gazing at Terrador hopefully, but he merely gave her a meaningful look and ushered her inside.

Cynder made her way down the centre of the room, passing injured dragons that were being treated with gems. She spotted Hunter sitting against the wall, having his leg swathed with bandages by a grumbling mole.

"Shame those red crystals work only on dragons," the mole was muttering as he worked. "You're just going to have to heal the old fashioned way."

Cynder moved on, glancing around the room for any sign of the purple dragon. Ember was further ahead and had stopped briefly to talk to Chios who was assisting the moles in healing Delos's wounds. The black dragoness was making her way towards them, when she heard Sparx yell from across the room.

"Spyro!" cried the dragonfly, dashing passed a startled cheetah and almost slamming into the purple dragon. Cynder wasted no time in leaping after the dragonfly.

She found Spyro lying across two green cushions near the far wall of the infirmary. There were three moles gathered around him, two pinning him down whilst the third administered crystals to his wounds. He appeared very distressed, struggling feebly against the restraining grasps of the moles. Cynder couldn't take her eyes off his body. He was covered in lacerations, deep cuts that leaked rich crimson blood over his scales and onto the cushions. There was a large tear in his wing and several deep puncture wounds in his back. She could also see a large bruise forming on his chest, turning the rich golden scales black and blotchy. Tears formed in Cynder's eyes as she gazed upon the purple dragon. Who or what could have left him in such a state?

"Spyro," she breathed, her voice heavy with emotion. "Oh, Spyro."

At the sound of her voice, Spyro's lilac eyes instantly snapped towards her. His distressed expression changed instantly to one of unmistakeable relief and he struggled even harder to sit up.

"Cynder!" he cried, a smile forming on his battered and bloodied face. "You're alive!"

A sob escaped Cynder's lips and before the moles could protest she had flung herself against the purple dragon and buried her face in his chest. Startled, Spyro refrained from wincing as his wounds twinged and managed to wrap his wings around the black dragoness. She wept against his scales, her salty tears stinging the scratches in his chest.

"Spyro! Spyro, what happened?" she sobbed, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "Wh-Who did this? Wh-Who d-did this to you?"

Spyro leant his cheek against her head, his wings wrapped tightly around her. He didn't care that the moles were staring, or that half the room had paused to see what the commotion was. All that mattered that he had Cynder back in his arms, alive.

"Hush," he whispered softly, caressing her back with a gentle paw, "It's okay. I'm okay, Cynder. It's going to be all right."

For several more moments, Cynder continued to sniffle and sob against his chest. But soon she had regained her composure and leant back to look him in the eyes. His expression was gentle, despite the several gashes that had been left across his face. Her own eyes were glossy with tears and she was sure she looked a mess, but Spyro didn't seem to mind.

"As long as you're okay," she murmured, nuzzling his snout reassuringly, perhaps more to reassure herself.

The moment was interrupted by an awkward cough from behind them, and Cynder turned to see the moles waiting impatiently with disapproving expressions. Their arms were still full of red crystals.

"If you don't mind, this dragon's wounds need healing," said one of the moles, tapping his paw impatiently.

Cynder blushed, but her dark scales did a good job of hiding it. Slinking away from Spyro, she smiled apologetically at the moles and winked at the purple dragon. As she stepped out of his grasp, Spyro couldn't help but notice her state.

"You're wounded, Cynder!" he cried, but was forced back down onto the cushions by the impatient moles.

Cynder looked over herself, noticing the several gashes and bite marks she'd received from her fight with Flame. None of them seemed too serious, but there were quite a few more than Cynder had realized. Nevertheless, she smiled reassuringly at Spyro.

"It's okay, Spyro, they're not too bad," she told him.

Spyro would have protested, but one of the moles was holding his jaw shut as they healed the scratches on his face and muzzle. Cynder watched for a moment until she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to find a mole gazing up at her, his beetle-black eyes kind and twinkling.

"Have a seat, miss," said the furry creature. "We'll see to those wounds."

Thanking the mole, Cynder left Spyro to be healed and settled down on a large cushion alongside Ember. The pink dragoness was holding her head back, allowing one of the moles to heal the bite marks in her neck. She glanced at Cynder out of the corner of her eye and managed a smile. Across the room, Sparx was hovering over Spyro and berating the purple dragon for fighting without him.

"If I'd have been there, you wouldn't have lost nearly so badly!" The dragonfly insisted, ignoring Spyro's protests that he hadn't actually lost the fight.

As the moles moved to heal Cynder's wounds, the black dragoness closed her eyes and zoned everything out. It was oddly soothing, the feeling of the red gems as they seeped energy into her body and healed her many injuries. She found her thoughts turning to Spyro, and she wondered just who or what he had been fighting. It must have been something big, she decided, for him to come out of it with so many injuries. Perhaps it had been the leader of the grublins, the one responsible for the attack on the city. Unless of course, Cynder frowned, Flame had been the one responsible. But surely the one who had been controlling Flame would have been in the city today, too?

As Cynder pondered this mystery, Spyro's thoughts were on the unusual grey dragon he'd fought. Alta had suddenly fled the fight in a panic, much to Spyro's confusion, despite being so close to victory. What had the seer been thinking? And, Spyro wondered, what was he thinking now? He didn't truly understand the young grey dragon. How could anyone so young be so cruel and insane to want to destroy his own race? But the more Spyro thought about it, the more he began to understand. And the more he began to feel sorry for the oracle dragon.

By the time the moles had finished tending to the injured, the day had already crept into the afternoon hours. Seriphos dismissed most of the dragons and Prowlus sent several of his cheetahs out to help with the cleanup of the city. Soon the guardians had entered the infirmary, and Spyro realised as he looked upon their grave faces that there was a lot that needed to be explained.

* * *

Sobs echoed through the caverns, accompanied by shuffling, uneven footsteps on rock. Alta limped through the tunnels of his underground home, his wounds shedding blood across the floor, salty tears dripping from his watery eyes. Flame wasn't following. The red dragon was curled up in the corner of one of the caves, his head in his paws as he hovered somewhere between two minds. For the moment he escaped Alta's attention.

The oracle dragon was sobbing uncontrollably, his pitiful moans and sobs echoing all around him as he made his way further into the caves. His body shook, both from crying and from the pain of injuries. He was a pathetic sight, covered in blood and dust, his eyes spilling countless tears down his bloodied cheeks.

Several more limps took him to the end of the tunnel and into a cavern lit by pale red light. Countless clumps of red gems shone their pale light down on the bloodied grey dragon as he collapsed in their midst. Sobbing fitfully, Alta pushed himself onto his belly with the rest of his waning strength and dragged himself over to the nearest gem cluster. His claws raked feebly at its smooth red surface, leaving white marks where they scratched the crystal. Several times he was forced to slash weakly at the cluster until part of the crystal gave way and shattered into pieces that tumbled around his bleeding body.

Alta grabbed several with his paws and pulled them closer to his ivory chest, hugging them against his body. They seeped into his scales, causing him to glow with pale red light, healing the multiple wounds that had been torn into his flesh. The other gems that had scattered around him crept closer towards his body, somehow attracted to his scales, until they too finally dissolved into his flesh. Shuddering, Alta lay still for a while on the floor of the cavern, surrounded by the clusters of crystals.

After several moments, in which only his feeble sobbing could be heard, Alta raised his head off the ground. His icy eyes scanned his body quickly, finding it completely healed. A little more energy seemed to have crept back into his limbs, and the tears had dried on his muzzle. Taking several deep breaths and releasing them, Alta finally pushed himself back to his feet. He was about to leave the cavern, when he decided to take a few of the gems with him. His violent, diamond-shaped tailblade swung out, slicing a large chunk off the nearest cluster of crystals. With it held securely in his muscled tail, Alta headed back into the main cavern.

There he found Flame lying on the ground against the far wall. The red dragon's paws were clasped firmly over his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as his tail twitched occasionally. There were very few wounds marring his vibrant scales, only those too deep for anklets to heal. As Alta strode closer he noticed that Flame was shaking, quaking like a terrified rabbit. The more Alta looked at him, the angrier he became. Suddenly, the oracle dragon lashed out and struck Flame across the face. The force caused the red dragon's head to snap to the side.

"You idiot," Alta snarled, glaring down at the red dragon. Flame refused to open his eyes or raise his head, lying trembling at Alta's feet.

"Look at me!" Alta roared, lashing out again. His claws bit into Flame's cheek, drawing blood, and at last Flame raised his head. His eyes were still blank, but Alta could see the tiny bit of life that was flickering in their depths.

With a flick of his tail, Alta sent the chunk of red crystal thudding into Flame's chest. The red dragon winced as it struck him painfully and grasped it with his forepaws.

"Heal yourself with that," the oracle dragon snapped, glaring.

Flame obliged without question, shattering the crystal between his claws as Alta turned away and strode towards the centre of the cavern. The two dragons had taken the shortcut back from Warfang, flying over the lake above the dam. The grublins were forced to take the longer way, skirting around the lake, and as such had not returned yet. The caverns were completely void of them.

"Come here," Alta called, when Flame finished with the crystal. He noticed the red dragon hesitated, and yelled the order with more force. "I said, come here!"

Wincing slightly at the sound of Alta's yell, Flame slunk over to the grey dragon like a dog found doing the wrong thing. He sat down opposite Alta, his golden eyes meeting the piercing blue ones of the oracle dragon. Alta could tell that Flame's mind was struggling to escape from his grasp. He could still feel it tugging at the back of his own mind.

"Stop struggling," Alta muttered, but no matter how much he tried to focus his mind, he just couldn't seem to get a hold on that rogue part of Flame's consciousness.

"Dammit!" the oracle dragon snapped after several more attempts, jerking his gaze away from Flame's. "Why can't I do it?"

Flame stared at the grey dragon in front of him. Much of his consciousness still felt oddly fuzzy. He wasn't entirely where he was or who this grey dragon was, but something about him and this place seemed familiar. Was there somewhere else he was supposed to be? Flame felt like he was forgetting something, but he couldn't think what. It felt like a dream—a fuzzy, half-formed dream.

"What am I going to do?" the grey dragon suddenly collapsed onto the floor, burying his head in his paws. "What have I done? How could this happen, after everything…?"

Alta. Yes, that was his name, Flame remembered now. But who was he? A friend? Yes, Flame thought as he watched the grey dragon, he must be. Why else would he be here with him? But the more he tried to remember, the more Flame began to wonder if that truly was the case. Why was he here and what was he doing here, anyway?

Oblivious to the questions running through Flame's mind, Alta had begun to sob again. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and plopped onto the floor, wetting the rock beneath his head. The humiliation he'd just suffered, the defeat at the hands of Spyro, and the knowledge that he'd failed the most desperate stage of his plan was pushing him over the edge.

"H-How could I let him beat me? I tried everything! He was supposed to die!" Alta howled, his sobs echoing around the cavern. "I was supposed to be the victor!"

"Why…" Alta had curled himself into a ball. "Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to ruin everything? I shouldn't have to do this…"

"I shouldn't have to do this!" The grey dragon suddenly jumped upright, tears flying from his eyes, his face full of rage. "If that stupid dragon had never stopped Malefor, I never would have had to go to this trouble! Why should I have to fix the things he messed up? We should already be dead! All of us! So why? Why, why, WHY?"

With each angry word, Alta slammed his paw into the ground, breaking shards of rock off the cavern floor and cutting his delicate pads. Hot tears of anger were rolling down his cheeks, spilling onto the ground and drenching his paws. Then suddenly, as though something strange had washed over him, Alta's anger just vanished. He collapsed onto the ground again, curling into a trembling ball.

"It isn't fair," he whimpered, sniffling and sobbing. "We were all supposed to die. It shouldn't have been just them…it should have been everyone. Why did I have to live? Why did everyone have to live, when _they_ all died? I saw the death of all dragons, not just my clan. It's not fair…it's all Spyro's fault…it's all his fault for keeping us alive."

"Why couldn't I beat him?" Alta howled, tears flowing freshly once more. "How could I fail after planning for so long? And what…what am I going to tell the grublins?"

His face suddenly paled, a spasm of fear crossing his expression, "H-How can I explain to them? I told them to retreat, but I promised them we wouldn't fail. Wh-What am I going to say to them?"

Flame watched him with a bemused look on his face. He didn't understand at all what the grey dragon was sobbing about, but something about the name 'Spyro' sounded oddly familiar. He didn't get long to ponder the mystery, though, before Alta suddenly jumped up again and lashed out at him. His lethal tailblade cut the air centimetres from Flame's face, and the red dragon staggered backwards.

"It's all your fault!" Alta screamed, spasms of rage distorting his face as he lashed out with his tail again and again. "You made me lose focus, you made me run away, it's _your fault_!"

Flame was sure he was about to get his head taken off by this strange dragon, but suddenly Alta wasn't attacking any more. The grey dragon had paused in mid strike and was backing away slowly with a horrified look on his face.

"No," he mumbled, tears rolling from his eyes, "It was _my _fault. It was my fault…it was…"

His face hardened and he threw himself to the floor like a hatchling throwing a tantrum. His claws scored deep gouges in the rocks as he roared, "It was _Spyro's_ fault!"

Flame was backing away now, convinced that this grey dragon was completely insane. He wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else but with this insane dragon, but he couldn't think of anywhere else he could be. His mind and memories were fuzzy, like half-formed dreams. As Alta continued to thrash on the floor, Flame began to feel the beginnings of panic. But suddenly the grey dragon stopped. He turned rigid so suddenly, his eyes wide and glassy, that Flame thought he'd just died. But that was far from the truth.

Alta lay rigid on the floor, his breathing fast and shallow as images flashed before his wide and staring eyes. Himself—standing in a cavern he recognised as one of his own, smiling coldly at something in front of him. Flame—lying limp and unmoving at the feet of a pink dragoness. A purple dragon—standing at the mouth of that same cavern, his violet eyes full of hate and anger as blood ran from a wound in the back of his neck. The images faded into white as Alta returned to reality and he found himself staring at the floor of his cavern, patterned with one of his painted markings.

The oracle dragon lay still for a few moments, breathing slow and deep, taking in what he had just seen and realising what it meant. His heart stopped hammering so fast and the panic he'd felt previously seemed to dissolve. A smile crept onto his face—a smile of both relief and triumph. His visions had just provided him with the answer; there was no need to worry any more. Calmly, Alta pushed himself back to his feet.

"They're coming," he spoke softly, staring at the floor. "They're coming here."

Flame stared at the grey dragon, unsure what had just happened. One moment he had been writhing on the floor in throes of angst and anger, the next he had calmly gotten to his feet as though nothing had happened. Flame couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes, a look that said he _knew _something. And whatever it was that he knew, it seemed to have answered all his problems. For several moments afterwards, Flame observed Alta as he sat and quietly pondered something. The minutes dragged on like hours.

The silence was broken suddenly by bad tempered mutterings and angry grumblings from the front caverns. Alta stood up abruptly as though he had been waiting for this, and strode confidently through the tunnel and out of view. Flame sat and watched the mouth of the tunnel, waiting for the grey dragon to return and listening in the meantime. After several moments of silence, the red dragon caught the sound of conversation and strained to hear more. Alta sounded as though he was speaking very fast and there was a distinctive quiver in his voice.

"I know, I know," the grey dragon was saying, his voice getting louder as though he was coming closer. "I understand that you're angry. I know I messed up, but if you'll just listen to me…"

His voice was drowned out by another voice that spoke in a hideous dialect that sent chills down Flame's spine. He watched as the back end of Alta suddenly appeared in the mouth of the tunnel. The grey dragon was slowly backing up into the cavern, and Flame wondered what it was he was facing. He got his answer as Alta came fully into view and something else appeared in the mouth of the cavern. It was a grublin, or was it a troll? Flame couldn't be sure. It stood at least as high as the roof of the tunnel and seemed to have to bend down to fit in to it. Alta stood at barely half its size and was forced to crane his head upwards to look it in the eyes. And a hideous beast it was, too. No wonder Alta seemed intimidated.

Flame couldn't understand the language the huge troll was speaking, but he knew just from the tone and the volume of its voice that it wasn't happy. Alta seemed to be trying to get a word in, but the huge beast wouldn't listen to him. Any moment now and Flame was sure the troll was about to bring its large wooden club down on top of the unfortunate grey dragon. But it didn't happen. At last Alta seized an opportunity to speak and he did so as quickly as he could.

"I understand, I know," the grey dragon insisted. "I know I ordered you to retreat even though you were so close, even though I promised we wouldn't fail. I know you're not happy, but it was just a minor mistake! We can fix things! Just listen—!"

But Alta was cut off when he was forced to dive to the side as the beast swung its massive club at the spot where the young dragon had been standing. He scrambled back to his feet, trembling but ready to dodge should the troll try again. It wasn't happy at all.

"Listen to me! He's coming here!" Alta yelled before the beast could strike again. The troll paused suddenly, its hideous face twisting into an expression of surprise and interest.

Knowing he had the beast's attention, Alta continued, "The purple dragon is coming here! I had a vision, and my visions are never wrong! Believe me, all we have to do is sit tight and the purple dragon will come to us! We can kill him on our own territory!"

The troll seemed to be considering it, but Flame was still convinced Alta was about to be flattened. However, despite his beliefs, the troll seemed pleased with Alta's idea. It nodded slowly, much to the oracle's relief.

"Good, good, I knew you'd see reason," Alta sighed. "We'll have that purple dragon right where we want him, and you shall have your revenge. Go prepare your troops. We wait for the purple dragon to arrive."

And just like that, much to Flame's amazement, the troll sauntered off leaving Alta without a scratch. The seer looked at though he was about to collapse from relief. As the troll disappeared down the tunnel, Alta turned around and plodded back to Flame. The red dragon stared, surprised that the grey dragon was still alive. He was sure the troll was going to kill him, but here he was without even a bruise to show that he'd angered such a formidable beast.

"Don't worry, Flame," Alta smiled. "Soon everything will work out. Spyro's going to come to us. Nice of him to save us the trouble, don't you think? Now come, there's something else I need before I face the purple dragon again."

As Flame followed the oracle dragon into one of the many tunnels, he couldn't dismiss that one question that continued circling in his mind. Who was Spyro?

* * *

The day wore on, midday turning into afternoon as a small conference was held in the infirmary. The guardians, along with Seriphos, Sparx, Hunter, Prowlus, and the three young dragons, Spyro, Cynder and Ember, sat together to discuss what was to be done about Flame and the grublins. But before anything could be done, the guardians first needed to know what had occurred during the grublin invasion.

"I know who is leading the grublins," Spyro sighed, looking tired, "and who is manipulating Flame. I met him today, and fought him. He's the reason I sustained so many injuries."

The guardians exchanged dark looks. They had expected no less from the purple dragon. Somehow he always found his way to the heart of the problem.

"And who is it, Spyro?" Terrador questioned, his gruff voice rumbling ominously. "Or should I ask _what _is it?"

Spyro met their gazes, full of interest and expectation. He knew they wouldn't expect the answer he was about to give them.

"A dragon," he said at last, "a grey dragon, the same age as me."

Their reactions were just as he'd expected: shocked, incredulous, and even dubious. Cyril's expression especially made Spyro feel like the ice guardian didn't believe a word he had said. Cynder was staring at him, perhaps wondering if he'd gone mad. But it was Terrador who spoke first.

"Your age, Spyro? How is that possible?" the earth guardian rumbled. "How could a dragon so young control a whole army of grublins? It just doesn't add up."

"Preposterous," Cyril added with a pompous sniff.

"It's quite implausible, highly improbable, incredibly dubious, for such an inexperienced young dragon to hold command over such an immense throng of grublins!" Volteer added, almost tripping over his own tongue.

"You swallowed the thesaurus again, didn't you?" Sparx muttered to the electricity guardian, holding a hand to his temple.

"I know it sounds impossible, but I'm just telling it how it is!" Spyro defended, feeling a little offended that they were doubting his word.

Terrador must have realised the young dragon was getting annoyed and soothed him by saying, "Alright, Spyro, we understand. However, you must agree that what you are speaking of sounds highly improbable. Can you tell us more about this grey dragon?"

Spyro sighed, irritated by their reluctance to believe, "His name is Alta, and he says he's an oracle dragon."

"A what?" Sparx asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cynder pulled him down with her wing and whispered in his ear, "A seer!"

"Oh."

The guardians, at least three of them, exchanged startled glances. Thasos looked very confused and the two cheetahs could only shrug at each other, neither of them understanding.

"Impossible," Terrador muttered, "I was led to believe that their race became extinct years ago."

"They did, Terrador!" Cyril agreed. "Not a soul has seen nor heard of an oracle dragon for years!"

"Well, he did say he was the last of his clan," Spyro added, remembering what Alta had said.

"How very intriguing! Fascinating, enthralling, and captivating! That such a species may still exist beyond our knowledge!" Volteer's tail was quivering with excitement.

"What did he say about his clan, Spyro?" Terrador asked.

Spyro frowned, remembering, "He said…that they were all killed during the war. He said he saw his own parents torn apart by Malefor's forces. He said that he's the only one left now."

"Hmm," Terrador grunted thoughtfully. "Interesting. If this young dragon truly is the head of the grublin army… Spyro, tell us what you know."

Glad that the guardians seemed to have stopped doubting him now, Spyro recounted everything that had happened that day. He told them everything that had occurred between him and Alta, and everything that the oracle dragon had told him. The reason for attacking Warfang, the vision Alta had seen of the end of the race of dragons, the powers that he had drawn from the strange artefacts he wore, and the way in which he was able to control Flame with a necklet—Spyro told the guardians everything. When he was done, his throat felt parched and he longed desperately for a drink of water.

The guardians were silent for several moments, no doubt digesting everything that Spyro had told them. At last Terrador spoke, and he was looking very grave indeed.

"Out of all the possibilities, all the reasons for this invasion, _this _is one that I would never have expected. How could a dragon so young be filled with so much hate as to want to destroy his own species? It is…difficult to comprehend."

The other guardians were soon adding their thoughts and agreements to Terrador's statement, but Spyro drowned their voices out as he pondered it himself. He thought back to everything that Alta had told him, remembering the many expressions that had crossed the seer's face when he spoke of his clan, his vision, and the race of dragons. The more Spyro thought about it, the more things seemed to fit together and he began to realize that he understood Alta's reasons for wanting the race of dragons dead.

Cynder had noticed the look on the purple dragon's face. He looked as though he was thinking of things deep and depressing, and Cynder hated seeing him so distressed. Getting up from her position, she crept over to his side and curled up beside him. He looked up when he felt her warmth against his side.

"You okay?" she asked, searching his face anxiously. He reassured her with a smile and nodded.

Extending a wing over her back, Spyro pulled the black dragoness closer and rested his head over hers. Oblivious to the young lovers, they were being watched. Ember lay not far away, her paws tucked under her body, watching Spyro and Cynder with a sad, almost envious look on her face. How she longed for Flame to be beside her, holding her like that. Why was it that these two dragons could find happiness with each other, when her own happiness felt so far away? It didn't seem fair to Ember. They had each other, but, with Flame gone, Ember had no one. Dejectedly, the pink dragoness stared at her paws and tried to fight off the tears that welled in her eyes.

"Are you telling me, that one of your own kind wants every last one of you dead?" Prowlus asked suddenly, interrupting the debate between the guardians. "Are you dragons truly that fickle?"

Cyril turned to glare at the cheetah chief, "I assure you, chief Prowlus, that _my_ ancestors would never take part in such barbarity towards our own race. That's more than I can say about others, though…"

"Now see here, Cyril!" Volteer bristled, as though it had been a personal insult. "Your pomposity and arrogance never ceases to repulse! Why, if all dragons were like you, our own race would be no more than arrogant toerags!"

"How dare—!" Cyril began, puffin his chest out and looking appalled, only to be cut off by Terrador.

"That's enough!" he snapped, startling everyone in the room. "There'll be no more of that!"

A silence fell over the room, and Terrador glanced sternly at everyone in it. Spyro held Cynder securely under his wing, finding comfort from his distressing thoughts in the warmth of her body against his.

"Now," said Terrador, lowering the volume of his impressive voice, "we all understand how preposterous it sounds for a young dragon—indeed for any dragon—to wish destruction upon his own race. No good dragon could ever wish that. Not all of us are as sick and twisted as Malefor."

He aimed that last sentence at Prowlus, but the cheetah didn't seem convinced. It seemed it would be a long time before he ever truly trusted the race of dragons. Terrador turned his gaze back on Spyro.

"What I do not understand is how this young dragon—Alta, was it?—can wish for the demise of the dragon race. I simply cannot fathom what could make him desire such a thing."

"Maybe…we need to imagine what we would be like in his place," Spyro sighed, and every eye turned to him. "Maybe then we could understand what is going on in his mind."

"Elaborate, Spyro. What do you mean?" Terrador insisted.

The purple dragon gazed out the window at the blue afternoon sky, a look of sad understanding on his face. Every creature in the room watched him, waiting for him to speak.

"Just think about it. Alta's whole clan, his whole family, was killed during the war. He saw it all happen with his own eyes, watched as his parents and friends were torn to shreds by Malefor's forces. Most dragons would have sunk into depression upon seeing that…many would give up, lose the will to continue living, even kill themselves. But not Alta. And I think I know why."

"Why, Spyro?" Terrador prompted.

The purple dragon turned to meet the Earth Guardian's eyes, "Because of the vision he saw. Alta saw the end of all of dragon life, including himself. I think, maybe, that's what gave him the strength to keep his mind. Because…because he knew that the end was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. I think, by that stage, he didn't want to stop it. He wanted the end to come, to be with the rest of his clan. I think he accepted death and was patiently waiting for it to come. Somehow, that knowledge calmed him."

"I'm afraid I don't understand where you're going with this, Spyro," Terrador sighed, shaking his head. But Spyro wasn't finished yet.

"When I spoke with him, he was angry. He blamed me, because I was the one who had saved the world. He didn't want me to save the world…he wanted the world to end. He wanted the race of dragons to die because _his _family had died."

The guardians still didn't seem to understand, so Spyro tried a different tactic. He hoped they would finally see things the way he saw it, and understand Alta.

"Imagine it was you. Imagine you saw your whole world die, your friends and your family. You wouldn't understand would you? You'd be asking 'why me? Why did it have to happen to me?' And you'd be wondering 'why did _my _family have to die? Why couldn't it be someone else?' Now, imagine you knew that the world was going to end, that there was nothing you could do to stop it. What would you be feeling? I think…I think I'd be relieved. Because it meant that it didn't matter that my family had died, because it meant that everyone in the world was meant to die anyway. I think I'd welcome death and be glad that it wasn't just my family that had suffered—it was everyone. I think I'd welcome death because, in this instant, it meant peace. And I think…that's how Alta feels. Do you understand?"

At last it seemed as though Spyro had gotten through to the guardians. They stared at the ground, their faces thoughtful and despondent, full of sadness and sympathy. Cynder shuddered at the thought. She couldn't imagine seeing the dragons she knew and loved die before her eyes. At that moment she suddenly felt sorry for Alta, this dragon she had never met.

"And when the world didn't end, when the peace you longed for didn't come, how would you feel? How would you feel knowing that your family died when no one else did?" Spyro asked softly, letting that last haunting question hang in the air like a cloud of ice.

"How pitiful," Terrador murmured, "and how sad that any dragon should have to experience such sorrow."

The other dragons murmured in agreement. It took several long moments for anyone to speak again. And even when they finally did pick up the conversation again, the heavy mood still remained like a blanket of depression settled coldly over their shoulders. Spyro held Cynder close to him, feeling suddenly colder and longing for the comforting warmth of the dragoness he loved. But Ember sat alone, feeling cold and unwanted, lamenting the absence of a friend to keep her warm.

"Now then," Terrador broke the uncomfortable silence, looking uncomfortable himself, "the next question to beg is, what happened to Flame?"

"We can answer that," Cynder responded at once, glancing at Ember, "We were the ones who ran into him today."

Terrador looked from one dragoness to the other, "And what happened?"

"He…he wasn't in his right mind," Ember murmured sadly, tracing a circle on the floor with her claw. "He attacked us and he didn't even seem to recognise me."

Cynder nodded, "We tried everything we could to get through to him and we almost did, but…"

"He ran away," Ember muttered bluntly, staring at the floor as her eyes swam with tears. "We couldn't stop him."

The guardians sighed in disappointed.

"Alta forced him," Spyro said suddenly. "He started panicking because Flame was regaining control of his mind, so he forced him to run away."

"I see," Terrador gazed upon the young dragons thoughtfully, "as well as the grublins, I presume?"

Spyro nodded. As the guardians turned to speak softly amongst each other, the purple dragon began to form his own plans in his head. He knew what needed to be done, and he wanted to do it sooner rather than later. They had to rescue Flame from Alta's grasp and maybe, Spyro pondered, even save Alta from himself. But first they needed to find out where Alta's hiding place was. And Spyro had an idea for that, too.

"Terrador," the purple dragon called suddenly, catching the Earth Guardian's attention, "I've got an idea. But we're going to have to be swift. I'm sure that we can save Flame, so just hear me out."

"Alright, Spyro," Terrador looked intrigued to say the least, "what is this plan of yours?"

"We follow the grublins to their hiding place," Spyro replied. "I'm sure there are still stragglers making their way there as we speak. Wherever they're hiding, that must be where Alta and Flame are. I say we follow them, sneak into their hiding place, and face Alta on his own territory."

The purple dragon glared at the larger dragons around him, daring them to argue with his plan. Terrador looked thoughtful as he considered Spyro's proposition. He wasn't about to disagree with the young dragon, but there was something he wanted to add to the hastily formed plan.

"Not a bad idea, Spyro," the earth guardian said, "but there's something else to consider, something we haven't told you yet."

"What is it?"

"Well, we believe that the grublins, and coincidentally this oracle dragon Alta, are responsible for the disappearance of the third search party," Terrador revealed.

Spyro almost slapped himself in the face with his own paw. Of course, the missing search party! How could he have forgotten them? Terrador was still speaking, so Spyro quickly tuned in and listened closely.

"It's likely that the search party is being held hostage at this same 'hiding place' where Flame and Alta currently reside. If we go through with this plan, it won't just be Flame we are trying to rescue. And if you're trying to rescue more than one dragon, I suggest taking a larger group with you to help…"

"I understand, Terrador," Spyro agreed without question. "So, what do you suggest? Shall we follow the grublins, or wait for them to attack again?"

Terrador stared hard at the purple dragon, "I think its time we took matters into our own paws."

Spyro's face cracked into a reckless grin, but Sparx slapped a hand to his forehead and sighed, "Oi, I knew you were gonna say that!"

Ignoring the dragonfly, Terrador turned his gaze towards Seriphos. He didn't say a word, but somehow the younger green dragon seemed to understand. He nodded once, puffing himself out importantly, and said, "It would be my honour to lead a force to save Flame and the missing search party."

"Good," Terrador turned back to Spyro. "Young dragon, I suggest you get yourself ready. You need to leave as soon as possible if you want to catch those grublins. But first…we need to get you a team…"

Prowlus was on his feet in an instant, "You can leave that to me."

"Seriphos, go with him," Terrador ordered, "and meet us at the main courtyard as soon as you're done!"

"Sir!" Saluting sharply with his wing, Seriphos turned quickly and strode out the door with Prowlus at his side.

Barely half an hour later, Spyro found himself at the main courtyard surrounded by those who would be accompanying him on this last desperate attempt to save Flame and, hopefully, the missing search party. Seriphos led a troop of about forty able-bodied dragons, including Naxos and Delos. Prowlus stood at the head of his entire cheetah force, numbering about fifty. But there were still some disputes about who was going.

"You're wounded, Hunter!" Prowlus insisted, looking annoyed that Hunter dared question his authority. "For the last time, you are not coming with us!"

"It is hardly a wound at all!" Hunter argued, gesturing at the white bandage wrapped securely around his left thigh. "It doesn't hinder me at all! I will assist you and the dragons on this endeavour whether you want me to or not! I am a warrior just like you, Prowlus! You wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?"

Prowlus hesitated, the truth of Hunter's words sinking in. It was true, Prowlus understood exactly how Hunter felt. How could he stand and watch as his tribe marched off to war without him? The cheetah chief sighed. It seemed like he had no choice after all.

"Very well, Hunter, you can come," Prowlus sighed, though there were the beginnings of a smile hovering on his muzzle. "I hadn't really wanted to leave my best warrior behind after all."

Hunter grinned, revealing sharp ivory fangs, "I can't thank you enough, Prowlus."

Not far away, Chios wasn't having as much luck. No matter how much she argued with Naxos and Delos, they wouldn't let her accompany them.

"It's going to be dangerous!" Naxos argued. "You could be killed!"

"Right! We can't always be watching out for you! What if something were to happen to you?" Delos added, swishing his tail.

"I can look after myself!" Chios shot back, pleading with them to give in. "Please, guys, I want to help!"

"No, Chios," Naxos shook his head. "You know you're not the best of fighters. Fighting the grublins here was bad enough, but we can't have you entering their stronghold with amateur combat skills! You'd be slaughtered!"

Chios looked desperately at Delos, her eyes wide and pleading, "Come on, Delos, please!"

But the red dragon shook his head, averting his eyes, "Sorry, Chios, but this is for your own good. We don't want you to get hurt. But don't worry, we'll come back soon."

"Guys…" Chios stared at them, her heart sinking as she realised they weren't about to change their minds. She couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes, tears of fear that she may never see her two friends again.

Awkwardly, Naxos extended a wing around her shoulder, "Aww, don't cry, Chi, we'll be okay. You'll see!"

"But…but what if something happens to you?" Chios argued, tears breaking and spilling over her muzzle.

Delos nudged Naxos out of the way, ignoring the yellow dragon's protests. He looked Chios firmly in the eye, both stern and reassuring.

"We will come back alive. I promise you."

Sniffing, Chios finally conceded and nodded. Then, without warning, she threw herself on the two males, wrapping her wings about their necks. Startled, they stood stock still as she sobbed between them.

"Come back to me," she begged, sniffing. "You big lugs. Come back alive."

"We will," they promised her together, "we will."

Terrador was just checking the team that Seriphos and Prowlus had put together, when a quiet but determined voice spoke up from behind him.

"I'm going too."

The earth guardian turned in surprise to see Ember staring up at him, her azure eyes hard and determined. He gazed upon her, unsure if he'd heard her correctly.

"I'm going too," the pink dragoness repeated, her eyes daring Terrador to disagree.

"Ember…" the earth guardian murmured, aware that Spyro and Cynder had stopped to listen.

"You can't stop me!" she cried, cutting him off. "Flame is _my _friend, I deserve to go! I'm the one who needs to save him! He needs me! I don't care what you say, I'm going! You can't stop me!"

Terrador gazed down at her, "Then…I won't."

Ember opened her mouth to argue before she realised what he had said. Her expression turned to one of shock and disbelief. Clearly she hadn't been expecting him to grant his permission.

"You…you won't?" she stuttered, staring upwards at the huge green guardian.

"Young Ember, there comes a time when all of us must stand up and face danger," The old warrior murmured, reminding Spyro strongly of Ignitus. "For you, that time is now. Flame needs you. He needs you to save him from himself. All of those around you are going to do their utmost best to help him, but it is you, Ember, who he is counting on. The bond you two share, no matter how strained it may be, is what will save Flame. I am sure of it. Now is the time for you to face your fears, Ember. I know I can't stop you, and nor do I want to. It is time for you to take your destiny into your own paws. Don't you agree, Thasos?"

The old orange dragon smiled fondly down at Ember, his brown eyes warm and caring. The pink dragoness gazed back at him, hardly daring to believe what Terrador had just said.

"Ember, I've known you since you were an egg," Thasos smiled. "I rescued you, hatched you, raised you, and you are like a daughter to me. I've watched you grow into the beautiful and strong dragoness you are now, and I believe it is finally time for you to take your life into your own paws. I am proud of you, my child. I know you can save Flame. I believe in you, Ember."

Ember's chin quivered, her eyes filling with glossy tears, and suddenly she broke into uncontrollable sobs. Tears ran down her cheeks, spilling over the ground as she gave vent to all of her emotions; happiness, sadness, fear, worry, pride, and love. She threw herself upon Thasos, burying her face in his scales as she wrapped her paws around his leg. He smiled fondly at her, letting her sob against his scales, never questioning her tears. He understood, and he truly meant what he had said. He could not imagine being prouder of any other dragoness.

"Thank you, Thasos," Ember whispered between sobs. "Thank you for everything."

As Terrador watched, he too couldn't help but smile fondly at the pink dragoness. Thasos had done a fine job, he concluded, of raising such a strong and beautiful dragoness.

"Cynder…" Cynder jumped when she heard someone whisper her name. She had been watching Ember and Thasos fondly, and was startled when she heard the soft voice. She turned quickly to see Chios standing behind her and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Chios? What is it?"

The green dragoness beckoned her closer and pressed something into her claws, "I want you to have this. Please, keep it."

Confused, Cynder stared at the object in her claws. It was a pouch, made from the skin of a deer and full of some sort of green vegetation. The black dragoness stared at Chios in confusion, looking for an explanation.

"The moles made that for me," Chios explained. "It's a pouch to keep my herbs in. These herbs are good for treating injuries. They dull pain, prevent infection, and help stop the bleeding. I want you to take it, just in case."

Cynder stared at the pouch, surprised that Chios had given her such a thoughtful gift, "Chios, I…I don't know what to say."

"Just promise me something," Chios replied, smiling. "Promise me you'll look after Spyro. I know how much you love him. Never…never let him go, okay? Promise me that."

Cynder smiled fondly, "I promise. Thank you, Chios."

"Any time, Cynder," The green dragoness turned to walk away and added as she left. "Be careful, okay? Come back soon."

"Don't worry. I will."

The black dragoness turned to walk back to Spyro, but ran into Sparx as he fluttered into her face. He pointed at the pouch in her claws, asking, "What have you got there?"

"Chios gave it to me," Cynder replied. "Herbs…just in case someone gets wounded. Could you give me a hand?"

Sparx scratched his head as Cynder gestured to the straps on the back of the pouch. Clearly it was meant to be tied on to something. Cynder held out her leg, wordlessly telling Sparx she wanted it tied around her upper foreleg. The dragonfly shrugged and hovered down to help.

"Sure thing," he responded, tying the straps securely around her leg. He hovered away when he was done and Cynder shook her leg to make sure it was secure.

"Thanks, Sparx," she grinned.

"Least I can do," the dragonfly replied, waving a hand airily.

"Are you coming too?"

Sparx looked aghast that she had even had to ask, "Of course I am! Why would I not? I'm always with Spyro, and don't you forget that! He's nothing without me!"

Cynder couldn't help but laugh, "Right, I almost forgot."

"Terrador, there's a problem…" Seriphos mumbled softly to the earth guardian.

"What is it?" Terrador asked gravely, looking worried.

"Well, the plan was to fly so that we had enough time to catch up to the grublins. They're already well ahead of us. But, well…"

"Cheetahs can't fly!" Prowlus finished, walking up to them with his arms folded.

Terrador looked from one to the other, slightly incredulous, "That's your problem?"

"Well, yes…" Seriphos seemed surprised that Terrador wasn't worried, "I mean, we can't just leave the cheetahs behind! And if we walk, there's no way we'll catch up to the grublins!"

To their surprise, the earth guardian's face suddenly cracked into an ominous grin. Seriphos and Prowlus exchanged dubious glances.

"Oh, don't worry, I've got it all figured out," Terrador smirked, sounding more like Ignitus than himself. Spyro, who had been listening, was reminded of the time he had learnt to fly. Something told him the cheetahs were about to get a bit of a shock.

* * *

"This is insane!" Hunter protested moments later, quivering from his position.

"You mean humiliating?" Prowlus corrected him with a growl, looking very irate indeed. "Terrador, what is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, lighten up, you two," sighed Meadow, who didn't seem at all bothered by the position in which he was in.

At that very moment he and all the other cheetahs were sitting rigidly on the backs of the dragons that Seriphos had chosen to accompany them. Some had doubled up on the same dragon, due to an imbalance in numbers. Spyro smirked up at them, amused at the sight of cheetahs riding dragons. But the cheetahs didn't seem at all amused. In fact, most of them seemed quite petrified.

"It was the easiest way to solve your problem," Terrador chuckled. "Now you'll get to experience the wonders of flight, too."

Hunter glanced down from the back of Naxos. The ground seemed a rather long way down from up here, and he was dreading the moment when they took flight.

"I think I'd prefer to keep my paws on the ground," he muttered, his voice quivering.

"I've never been so humiliated," Prowlus grumbled, glaring at the back of Seriphos's head. "Riding dragons…preposterous!"

"If you keep complaining, I'll throw you off," Seriphos replied, his voice carrying a noticeable edge.

Prowlus scowled, but fell silent anyway. Terrador strode backwards and forwards in front of the ranks of dragons and their cheetah riders. Spyro, Cynder and Ember were the only ones not serving as mounts, as they were still too small. The afternoon was wearing on and Terrador knew he had put off this moment long enough. It was time.

"Spyro, Cynder," he addressed the two of them with a sad look on his face. "Once again I must watch as you fly into the unknown, into danger. The last time I watched you leave, you returned with one less. I hope…I hope that this time you will all return safe and well. Be swift, dragons and cheetahs of Avalar, we are counting on you."

"Don't worry, Terrador," Spyro replied strongly, confidence drawn from the strength of his friends. "We'll come back soon. And we'll bring Flame back with us."

"I know you will, Spyro. I trust you," the earth guardian turned and swept his gaze over the combined squadron. "Go now, my friends, and bring our comrades back to us! May the ancestors guide you! May they look after you and give you hope! Good luck, my friends!"

The startled yelps of cheetahs could be heard as the dragons sprang into the sky and spread their wide, leathery wings. Spyro hovered level with the top of the wall for a few moments, gazing down on the guardians. He gave them a last smile, a soundless promise that he would return, and then turned away. Together with Cynder and Ember at his side, Spyro soared into the unknown.

Down below, Terrador watched for the second time as Spyro and Cynder flew into battle without him. Once again he longed to be beside them, to help and protect them as Ignitus would have done, but he could do no more than watch as they soared away into the sky. He could only hope that, this time, victory would not require a sacrifice.

**A/N: Still awake? Good! I almost fell asleep while writing this chapter. Hope it wasn't too tedious. :P I tried to explain a lot in this chapter, mostly about Alta, so I hope everyone can understand him a bit more now. I know he's a little weird, and his reasons for wanting all dragons dead are little hard to understand, but that's just the way I made him. My visions are never wrong, he says... Well, that's what he believes, anyway. **

**Oh, and the troll... I figured I needed some sort of big horrible creature that was the head of the grublins. He's big, dumb, and ugly, as any troll should be. :) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter and everyone who keeps reviewing! We're on the home stretch now! Hope you enjoyed the long chapter...**


	25. Enter the Caverns

**A/N: You wanted a quick update? I give you a quick update! I should be studying for my finals, which are in about 3 days, but I wrote this instead. Hooray for procrastination.**

**25. Enter the Caverns**

The sun was sinking fast, the afternoon wearing quickly into evening. Spyro knew they were cutting it fine. If they didn't find any grublins soon, they might as well consider the mission failed. There'd be no chance of seeing anything in the dark. The purple dragon soared at the head of the squadron alongside Seriphos, with Cynder and Ember flying side by side behind him. Prowlus was holding tight around the green dragon's neck, trying and failing to keep the fear from his eyes. Clearly he wasn't used to the sensation of flight.

As they soared over the lake above the dam, the cheetah chief made the mistake of looking down. The glistening water, dappled gold by the evening sun, seemed miles away. Swallowing hard, Prowlus quickly jerked his gaze away and stared straight ahead. His grip on Seriphos tightened considerably—a little too much, as the green dragon was quick to point out.

"You're starting to strangle me, Prowlus," he growled, his voice a little strained as the cheetah's trembling paws constricted on his windpipe. "There's no need to hold on so tight. You won't fall."

"You say that now," Prowlus snapped back, keeping his eyes firmly ahead. But he loosened his grip anyway, much to his mount's relief.

Ignoring the arguing pair, Spyro strained to reach the far side of the lake before the sun could sink too low. They had to find the grublins. At least _one_ would be sufficient, but without any they might as well be flying blind. His nervousness was showing clearly through his body language—the twitching of his tail, the trembling of his wings, the way he outstretched his neck in a desperate effort to go faster.

"Chill, Spyro," said Sparx, who was still managing to keep up with the purple dragon. "No need to look so tense. We'll find them. They're grublins; with mugs that ugly, how can we not?"

Spyro replied with a strained smirk, "I know, Sparx, I know. I'm just a little nervous."

The dragonfly waved an airy hand dismissively, "Come on, Spyro, we've had worse then this! We stopped the big bad evil guy from destroying the world! How could this be any worse?"

Sparx paused and then added, "We're just…chasing a bunch of monsters that want to kill us, to find the stronghold of a dragon that wants us dead, to save a dragon that hated you in the first place."

With a groan, the dragonfly held a hand to his head and muttered, "Oi, why do I agree to these things?"

Chuckling appreciatively, Spyro grinned at his surrogate brother, "Don't worry, Sparx. At least this time we can face it together. This time I didn't have to leave you behind."

"Yeah, that makes me feel better," Sparx muttered, and though his voice was laced with sarcasm, Spyro knew he appreciated the thought.

Soon the water of the lake gave way to trees and earth as the sun sank dangerously low. It was getting dark and Spyro was getting worried. He set a course for the old grublin camp, thinking perhaps that was their best chance, however slim that chance may be. But they'd barely been flying for ten minutes before someone shouted from behind. Spyro turned, alarmed, to see Meadow pointing at something on the ground to the right. Delos, who was carrying the cheetah, had paused in mid flight to stare in that direction and he soon snapped his gaze towards Spyro.

"Spyro, there's grublins down there!" he called.

Spyro's heart leapt and he gazed hopefully down into the trees. Sure enough his sharp eyes caught sight of a small group of grublins making their way slowly through the trees. There were about five of them, no doubt stragglers that had fallen behind the main pack. Thinking quickly, Spyro came up with a plan.

"Listen closely," he muttered to those closest to him, those being Seriphos, Ember, Cynder and Prowlus. "They're moving too slow for us to follow from the air and we could lose sight of them through the canopy of the trees. We're also easier to spot in the air and we want to keep a low profile. So we're going to follow them on foot. Got that? Spread the word, and let's go."

Prowlus seemed pleased, "Not a bad idea, dragon. The sooner I get my paws on the ground, the better."

"The sooner I get you off my back, the better," Seriphos grumbled, but Prowlus pretended not to hear. Spyro couldn't help but grin.

Silently, the four dragons spread the word amongst the others and soon Spyro was leading them all down to the forest floor. As the cheetahs dismounted and regained their composure, Spyro crept ahead to spy on the group of grublins. They were moving slowly, muttering mutinously together as they bashed their way through the undergrowth. They seemed quite unhappy about something and oblivious to the eyes of the purple dragon that watched them from within the trees.

"Never again!" Hunter sighed, leaning against Naxos as his knees trembled. "Never again! Flying is not for cheetahs!"

"I couldn't agree more," Prowlus replied as most of the cheetahs nodded in agreement. Meadow, on the other hand, seemed to be rather disappointed about being back on the ground.

"You know, I rather enjoyed that," he said to Delos, and the red dragon grinned at him. Prowlus snorted disapprovingly, shooting an incredulous glare at his fellow cheetah. But Meadow didn't seem to care.

"Hush!" hissed Spyro, having crept back to the squadron. Though their numbers were less than a hundred, they still felt cramped amongst the tightly packed tress.

"We need to be silent," Spyro warned, "Make as little noise as possible or this isn't going to work at all. I suggest we line up in twos. It will make it easier to move through the forest. Quickly and quietly, I need you all to get yourselves in line."

There was a hurry to do as the purple dragon suggested, and Spyro dearly hoped that the grublins ahead couldn't hear the rustling noises they were making. At last Spyro was facing a long organised line of dragons and cheetahs. Cynder and Ember stood at the head of the line, gazing expectantly at him.

"Good," murmured Spyro, keeping his voice hushed, "Now, all of you follow me and _keep quiet_!"

With Seriphos at his side and Sparx hovering next to him, Spyro led the squadron deep into the forest, following the trail the grublins were leaving. It was rather easy to follow, thanks to the grublins efforts at cutting away the undergrowth. Nevertheless, it was slow and tedious work. Spyro was glad the sun was going down, otherwise it would have been stifling hot.

For several long minutes, the dragons and cheetahs crept and crawled through the undergrowth and around trees, stealthily following the grublins. The silence was so thick that Spyro could hear his own nervous breathing and the thumping of his heart. He held his tail high, careful to stop it scraping on the ground and making noise. He hoped the dragons behind him would follow his example. For once, Spyro envied Sparx. The dragonfly was merely floating along at a leisurely pace, no bothersome tail or large troublesome wings to hinder him. For him, being silent was a simple matter of keeping his mouth shut.

Ahead, Spyro could see the back of one of the grublins ducking in and out of his vision amongst the undergrowth. He kept his eyes on it, not wanting to lose his guide. Every step was taken with extreme caution, but Spyro's concentration was beginning to wane. He took another step, his paw thudding heavily into the ground. Usually, the sound was muffled by leaves, but this time was different. A resounding _crack _was heard as a large twig snapped cleanly in two beneath Spyro's paw. He froze as up head, half hidden by the undergrowth, so did the grublin.

"Halt!" he hissed, and heard his quiet order echo down the line of dragons and cheetahs behind him.

Everyone stopped moving. Trembling, Spyro backed up as quietly as he could and lowered himself to the ground. Beside him, Seriphos did the same. The grublin up ahead was concealed mostly in the undergrowth and Spyro could only see part of its back. It had stopped, frozen as though listening, clearly having heard the sound of the twig snapping. Spyro held his breath. He was sure that at any moment, the grublin was going to turn around and spot him through the undergrowth. But somehow, by some bizarre stroke of luck, the grublin didn't turn around. Instead it continued on its way, disappearing into the thick undergrowth.

Spyro could hardly believe his luck. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, the purple dragon straightened up and continued on. The others followed close behind, and this time Spyro was sure to take each step with extra caution. To his relief, there were no more similar situations in the moments that followed. Everything proceeded smoothly until the trees began to thin out. Spyro noticed it slowly, how the trees were becoming farther apart and the dense undergrowth was beginning to thin. The grublins could now be clearly seen ahead, which meant that they could clearly be seen if the grublins were to turn around.

"Spyro…" Seriphos muttered softly, having noticed it too.

"I know," Spyro whispered back, "We're just going to have to be careful and hope luck is on our side. If they turn around, they'll see us immediately."

"We could capture one and force it to lead us to its hideout," Seriphos suggested, clearly eager for some action.

Sparx scoffed, "Sure. They're _grublins. _They're not going to listen to us. Good luck understanding them, too."

"Sparx is right," Spyro sighed, "I've dealt with them before. They're not very agreeable creatures. And even if we could understand them…I think they'd rather die than surrender to us. We'll just have to be careful."

"Very well," Seriphos sighed, defeated.

They continued on, trying to keep under the cover of trees and undergrowth as much as possible. But it was becoming harder and harder as the forest receded. The ordered line of dragons and cheetahs began to spread out. The grass was becoming taller, dry, and yellowed. Clumps of rock stuck out from the earth, replacing the trees that no longer seemed to grow past this point. Spyro felt as though he'd just stepped into a dry meadow. Stopping behind a large outcrop of stone, Spyro peered around it and took in his surroundings.

The yellowed grass stretched all around him, dotted with outcrops of stone and rock. Behind him, the forest stood green and majestic. Ahead of him, Spyro could see a mighty mountain range rising high into the sky. The further they came to the mountains, the more the ground became rocky and the grass began to disappear. The grublins were making their way through the grass, scrambling over the rocks in their way, heading for the mountains.

"Looks like that's where we're headed," Spyro muttered, gazing at the mountains.

"Alright everyone," he turned around to face his team, which had been milling about behind him, "The grublins are heading for the mountains. The rocks should provide good cover for us, but be careful anyway. It shouldn't take long before we reach those mountains. We're almost there. Come on."

"Right behind you," Sparx mumbled, keeping close to Spyro as the purple dragon moved on.

There was very little light now, only the tiny bit of sun that turned the bottoms of the clouds orange. Soon it would be dark, but Spyro wasn't worried. Soon they found themselves out of the grass and crawling over rock, hiding behind outcrops and sneaking after the grublins. Spyro was watching them very closely. They were very close to the base of the mountain now and Spyro had no idea where the grublins would head next. But suddenly, before his very eyes, they disappeared. It was as though they suddenly sank into the stone. Spyro froze.

"What?" he yelped, staring at the spot they had previously been, "Where did they go?"

"Hey, Spyro, what's up?" Sparx asked.

"The grublins just disappeared!" Spyro replied, shocked and confused. He pointed with a claw. "They were right over there!"

Interested, Sparx shrugged and hovered over to the spot at which Spyro was pointing. The purple dragon kept his eyes on the dragonfly and crept slowly after him. Sparx had paused in mid air and was staring at something in the rock.

"Hey, Spyro…you'd better come see this, buddy," the dragonfly called.

Interested and curious, Spyro hurried over to his surrogate brother. What he found was a whole lot of rock at the base of the mountain and Sparx staring into a deep dark tunnel that travelled at a smooth slope down into the earth. Where it led, Spyro didn't know. But he was sure that he had finally found the hiding place of Alta and the grublins. This was it.

"Everyone!" the purple dragon called, turning around to face the rest of his squadron, most of who had been sneaking around the rocks, "I think we've found it!"

Exchanging curious looks, Cynder and Ember hurried over to Spyro as the rest of the squadron did the same. Seriphos stared dubiously into the darkness of the tunnel, his eyes straining to see anything in the shadows.

"In here, Spyro?" he asked, sounding a little unsure.

"I'm sure of it," the purple dragon replied, his face glowing with determination. The sky had darkened as the last rays of sun disappeared, unnoticed by the squadron.

Most of the others didn't seem to share his confidence and Spyro noticed how they hesitated. Sighing, the purple dragon placed one paw in the tunnel and turned around to face his team. They stared back at him anxiously.

"You sure you wanna go in there, Spyro?" Sparx asked, staring into the darkness. Spyro nodded.

"I'm going in," he said. "If Flame and the missing search party are in here, I have to save them. Regardless of who comes with me, I must continue. I'm not giving up now."

Spyro stared hard at the dragons and cheetahs facing him, "But it's not too late to turn back. I won't think any less of any of you if you do. You don't have to do this. It isn't too late to turn back."

An uncomfortable silence fell as Spyro waited at the entrance to the tunnel, waiting to see who would stay and who would turn away. He met Cynder's gaze and knew from her expression that she wouldn't leave him no matter what. Ember, too, gave him a stiff nod, her face set with determination.

"With you all the way, Spyro, you know that," Sparx mumbled quietly, his voice quivering with fear.

Spyro nodded appreciatively, but the others seemed reluctant to speak. They glanced at each other, hoping desperately that somebody else would speak up. But no one did. Spyro was about to turn away and venture into the tunnel without them, when Prowlus spoke up.

"We've come too far to turn back now," growled the cheetah chief. "We promised to help and we aren't about to give up. How could we hope to turn away and still keep our honour? We've come this far, and we will continue until the very end. You have my tribe's loyalty, dra—Spyro. We will follow you."

The cheetahs nodded in agreement and Spyro couldn't help but smile. He nodded gratefully at Prowlus, who nodded stiffly at him in return. Inspired by the cheetah's speech, soon the dragons were nodding and agreeing with his words. Spyro sighed with relief. With new hope in his heart and friends at his back, he headed into the darkness of the earth with only Sparx to light his way.

* * *

The feeble glow of a dragonfly couldn't penetrate the thick darkness of the tunnel, but Spyro was glad of it anyway. He kept close to his surrogate dragonfly brother, finding comfort and confidence in the yellow light that shone from his tiny body. He could feel Cynder walking close to him, her scales rubbing against his every now and then. Footsteps behind him and the breathing of dragons in the darkness reminded Spyro that he wasn't alone.

An orange light, flickering and uneven, appeared at the end of the tunnel after several moments of walking in darkness. Eager to be out of the darkness, Spyro picked up his pace and soon found himself in a large cavern lit by fire torches on the walls. It amazed him how big the cave was, stretching far above his head. The rock walls were smooth and even, as though they had been scooped out by a giant claw. His squadron followed him into the cavern, fitting into it surprisingly easily.

"So, um, which way?" Sparx voiced what they were all thinking.

Spyro stared around the cavern, dismayed at what he saw. There were several tunnels branching off from this cave, some lit by torches and others disappearing into darkness. The grublins were nowhere to be seen and Spyro had no idea which way he was supposed to go. Which tunnel would lead them to Alta? And which one would lead them to the grublins? Or would they be down the same tunnel? Spyro didn't know. Nor did he know just how big this maze of tunnels could be.

Hunter strode around the cavern, stopping to gaze down each of the tunnels in turn. He was walking with a slight limp, thanks to the injury in his leg, and Prowlus wondered if it was the right choice to let him come along. Evidently, Hunter didn't have any luck at deciding which tunnel was best, because he turned back to the others and shrugged helplessly.

"Any bright ideas?" he asked, but was met with hopeless gazes.

Spyro was thinking deeply, staring at each of the tunnels. After several moments in which no one seemed to know what to do, the purple dragon stood up and moved closer to the nearest tunnel.

"Maybe we're over-thinking this…" he muttered quietly, before breathing in deeply. His nostrils flared, searching for a familiar scent. But he smelled nothing. Scowling, Spyro moved on to the next tunnel, the one furthest to the left.

Moving his snout close to the ground, he took a long draught of air and tasted the scent that came with it. It was a rotten scent, one that usually made him feel sick, and quite familiar. It was also particularly fresh. Snorting the smell from his nostrils, Spyro turned to face the bewildered squadron.

"The grublins went down this tunnel," Spyro revealed, "I'd know their scent anywhere."

"Bet they don't smell very nice," Sparx snickered, and Spyro glared at the dragonfly. He always seemed to know the worst thing to say at the most inappropriate times. But some small part of him appreciated that. Sparx was particularly good at lifting the mood.

"Well, then what are we waiting for?" Seriphos asked, not questioning Spyro's word and moving to go down the suggested tunnel.

But Spyro made no move to go down that tunnel. Instead he walked past Seriphos towards the other tunnels. Confused, the dragons and cheetahs watched as Spyro took a whiff of each of the tunnels in turn. One in particular he stopped at and stood for a while staring into its dark depths. Spyro knew the scent that came from this tunnel. It was one he had only smelt once before, but wouldn't ever forget—a slightly musky smell that was just as pleasant as it was unpleasant. It reminded him of trees and old bark.

"Spyro?" Cynder asked uncertainly when the purple dragon hadn't said anything for a while.

He turned to meet the curious glances of the rest of the squadron.

"This scent is Alta's scent," he revealed, gesturing back down the tunnel he stood at the mouth of. "He's down this tunnel somewhere, I'm sure of it."

Seriphos's face fell, "So then, which tunnel do we go down?"

The green dragon was torn. Should they follow the grublins, or hunt down Alta? He had no idea which would be the better choice. But he didn't have to worry. Spyro already seemed to know what needed to be done.

"Seriphos, I want you to take everyone down _that_ tunnel," Spyro pointed at the one furthest to the left, "I have a feeling that the grublins might be the ones responsible for the missing search party. Wherever they are, they could be holding the dragons as prisoners. I want you to go down that tunnel and find them. Take the squadron. If you run across the grublins, you're going to need them to fight."

"And what about you, Spyro?" Seriphos asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"Alta's down this tunnel," the purple dragon replied, "and I'm willing to bet anything that Flame is with him. You're going to need everyone to take down the grublins, but…I can deal with Alta on my own. I'm going after him and I need you to deal with the grublins. Can you do that?"

Seriphos hesitated, "Are you sure, Spyro? We all saw your condition after fighting Alta at Warfang…you didn't exactly get off without a scratch. Surely you don't think you can take him on your own?"

Spyro opened his mouth to argue, but Cynder beat him to it.

"He won't be alone."

Spyro stared at her, surprised, "Cynder…?"

The black dragoness stared back at him, her emerald eyes glinting with determination. Her scales swam with gold light from the torches on the walls and for a moment Spyro was blinded by her almost aggressive beauty.

"I'm going with you, Spyro," she said. It wasn't a request.

"So am I," Ember added, much to Spyro's surprise. "Flame's my friend. I have to help."

"Cynder, E-Ember…" Spyro stuttered, staring from one to the other, trying to find some way to respond.

"Come on, Spyro, you really didn't think you could get away from us, did you?" Cynder teased. "We're not letting you have all the fun."

"Right, and if you're going to free Flame, you're going to need all the help you can get," Ember added, full of a surprising confidence that she hadn't had before. "We've got your back."

"I…I don't know what to say," Spyro stammered, his cheeks heating up.

Cynder moved closer to him, her snout almost touching his, "Then don't say anything. We're coming with you whether you like it or not. And there's nothing you can say to change that."

Spyro remained stunned for several more seconds before grinning, "If that's how it's going to be, I guess I've got no choice."

The purple dragon turned to Seriphos, "Think you can handle the grublins?"

The green dragon didn't seem all that pleased with letting the three young dragons face Alta alone, but he knew from their determined expressions that he had no chance of dissuading them. He glanced once at Prowlus and the cheetah nodded in agreement. There was no turning back now.

"Leave them to us, Spyro," Seriphos confirmed, "those grublins won't stand a chance. But be careful. The guardians would never forgive me if I didn't bring back all three of you alive."

"I know," Spyro grinned reassuringly, "but we'll be fine. Good luck, Seriphos. See you soon, I hope."

Seriphos nodded slowly, "Yes, and good luck to you. Alright, dragons, you heard the purple dragon! Stick close and follow me! We've got some grublins to hunt!"

Grinning excitedly, the dragons followed Seriphos into the darkness of the tunnel. Spyro watched them go, hoping that he would see them all soon—alive and well, preferably. With the dragons gone, only the cheetahs remained. Prowlus seemed to be waiting for something. Spyro stared expectantly at him.

"Something wrong, Chief Prowlus?" he asked, but the cheetah shook his head.

"No, Spyro, I just wanted to…" Prowlus rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I wanted to wish you good luck. I guess not all dragons are as bad as Malefor…even purple dragons. And I hope you can forgive my actions towards you during the war…"

"Don't worry about it, Prowlus," Spyro shook his head, smiling gently, "it's in the past. Good luck, too. We'll see you soon, hopefully."

Prowlus nodded stiffly, still looking awkward, and led his cheetahs towards the tunnel. Most of them disappeared into the darkness, but Prowlus and Hunter hesitated at the mouth of the tunnel. They both turned back to the purple dragon.

"Good luck, Spyro," Hunter said, holding a hand to his heart. "You are a true friend."

"May the ancestors look after you," Prowlus added and turned away.

Before Spyro could respond, both cheetahs had disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel. The purple dragon stared after them, appreciating their words and yet worrying about their safety. He could only hope that he would see them again.

"May the ancestors look after you," he repeated softly, his words echoing down the tunnel after them.

A silence fell in the cavern. Cynder and Ember waited for Spyro to turn around and lead them down the other tunnel, but the purple dragon was distracted by something. Sparx was hovering casually beside his head, staring into the dark tunnel with an apprehensive look on his face.

"And there goes our protection," the dragonfly muttered, displeased that the squadron had left.

"Sparx?" Spyro stared up at him. "What are you…?"

"What?" Sparx stared down at the purple dragon and a horrified look crossed his face. "You didn't expect me to go _with_ them, did you?"

"Well, I…" Spyro hesitated, and Sparx seized the opportunity to keep talking.

"There's no way I'm leaving you, Spyro!" he insisted. "Brothers stick together! I thought you knew that!"

"I know, Sparx," Spyro sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I know."

"Well, let's go then!" Sparx hovered over to the other tunnel, Spyro following behind.

Spyro stopped in front of Cynder and Ember. They gazed back at him, their eyes filled both with fear and determination. Spyro knew this was it.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked them.

"Of course," Cynder replied, and Ember nodded quickly.

Spyro hesitated and then admitted, "I'm glad you're with me. Both of you."

"Don't worry, Spyro," the two dragonesses grinned together. "We'll always have your back."

With newfound confidence, Spyro led the two dragonesses deep into the darkness of the winding tunnel. He wasn't sure what would be waiting for them on the other side, but Spyro felt that with Ember and Cynder beside him, he could face anything.

* * *

The tunnel into which Seriphos led the squadron was wide and well lit with fire torches along the walls. He was glad of it, preferring this to the dark tunnel they had previously been down. But he did wonder what was waiting for them at the end. Prowlus had caught up to him and was walking at his side, his paw resting nervously on the hilt of his short sword.

"Do you think they'll be waiting for us?" the cheetah asked stiffly, glaring down the tunnel as though expecting an army of grublins to suddenly come charging around the corner.

"They won't know we're coming," Seriphos replied, equally as stiffly, but he didn't seem very sure about his own words.

"I hope you're right," Hunter muttered from behind.

"Yeah," Naxos was looking around at the walls curiously, as though he had never seen a tunnel before. "Wouldn't want to enter a cavern full of angry grublins just waiting to slaughter us."

Delos glared, "That's just the image I needed to give me confidence, Naxos. Thanks."

Naxos pretended he didn't hear the heavy sarcasm and grinned goofily, "No problem!"

Seriphos rolled his eyes, focusing on what was ahead of him. An uncomfortable silence fell amongst the squadron. Their footsteps sounded unusually loud in the echo of the tunnel. On and on they marched, believing this tunnel with all its twists and turns would never end, until at last the end was in sight.

Anxiously, Seriphos crept carefully forwards, prepared for a surprise attack from whatever was waiting for them. But there were no signs of life. Surprised, Seriphos stepped out into the open cavern and was instantly struck dumb with awe. The other dragons and cheetahs followed close and their faces soon matched Seriphos's as they gazed upwards.

The cavern was huge, as big as the gardens back at Warfang if not bigger, and stretched far above their heads. But what awed them most was the honeycomb of caverns and tunnels dotted all around the walls and ceiling. Dark tunnels stretched into the rock all around them, some high in the walls, some closer to the ground and others that seemed to open in the middle of the ceiling. There were countless tunnels around them, leading to who knew where and who knew what. Seriphos didn't know what to say.

"Whoa," Naxos breathed, which just about summed up what everyone was thinking.

"Where do they all lead to?" Delos whispered, his voice hushed with awe. "How big do you think this place is?"

"Who knows?" Seriphos replied, "But the grublins are probably around here somewhere. We should—"

He didn't get any further. His voice was drowned out by an unearthly shriek and suddenly the cavern was full of howls and screeches as hideous creatures poured into the cavern. Grublins. There were hundreds of them, waving crude weapons and shrieking ugly war cries as they surrounded the surprised squadron. Seriphos stared around him frantically, searching for an escape route, but found that all exits were blocked off by the beasts. They were as good as trapped.

"Not good," Hunter muttered, backing up as the grublins surrounded them, "this is not good at all."

Prowlus had drawn his sword and was glaring menacingly at the grublins, "Why aren't they attacking?"

His answer soon came when a huge, hideous beast, three times the size of the grublins, marched into the room. The troll raised its wooden club above its head, its blotchy skin glimmering in the firelight, and gave one, long, unearthly howl. Just like that, the grublins suddenly lurched forwards towards the surrounded squadron. Seriphos paled.

"Oh no."

* * *

Spyro stopped as the tunnel opened out into another cavern, this one smaller than the first. He felt Cynder and Ember come up behind him and move to either side of him like bodyguards. Their eyes were drawn to the opposite wall, where three tunnels branched off in different directions. All eyes turned to Spyro.

"Which way now?" Cynder asked, her voice echoing in the cavern.

Spyro didn't answer. Instead he walked towards the tunnels and breathed in the scents that wafted from them. But after a few moments he shook his head in defeat. It was no use; Alta's scent was everywhere. He turned a helpless glance on the two girls.

"I don't know. His scent is all over this place," Spyro shook his head and glanced back down the middle tunnel. "He could be down any of these."

"What about Flame?" Ember asked hopefully. "Can you smell him?"

But though Spyro tried, he could only shake his head. Alta's scent masked all others in the cavern and Spyro couldn't get a single whiff of Flame's scent. Sparx looked from the dragons to the tunnels and back again, an idea forming in his tiny head.

"Look, all this scent stuff is really weird," the dragonfly muttered. "Why not just do it the old fashioned way and _check _each one?"

Spyro stared quizzically at the dragonfly, and Sparx rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Spyro, it's easy enough to understand. Three dragons," he waved a hand at the three of them, "three tunnels; doesn't take a genius to figure out."

The three dragons in question exchanged dubious glances. They knew what Sparx was suggesting, but none of them seemed too keen to go through with it. Spyro turned back to his surrogate brother, a worried look on his purple face.

"You think we should split up?"

"Well, yeah," Sparx shrugged, "what else can we do?"

Spyro met Cynder's gaze, wordlessly asking what she thought was a good idea. Reluctantly, the black dragoness realized she had to agree with the yellow dragonfly.

"He's right, Spyro," she sighed. "It's the only choice we've got."

"It's kinda spooky," Ember added, peering into one of the dark tunnels, "like it's all been set out for us."

Spyro was reluctant to agree, "It'll be dangerous…"

"We can take care of ourselves, Spyro," Cynder reassured him. Ember nodded in agreement, though she looked frightened.

"But…" Spyro insisted, looking from one to the other.

Cynder shook her head, "What else can we do if we don't split up? He could be down any of these tunnels, and we have no idea how far they could go. Splitting up is our best bet."

"You're right," Spyro sighed reluctantly, realizing he had no choice but to give in, "But I still don't like it."

"Don't worry, Spyro," Ember reassured him, "I'm sure we'll meet up soon. I hope."

The purple dragon walked over to the mouth of the middle tunnel, "I'm taking this one. There are a few things I want you to remember before we split up. First of all…"

Spyro raised a paw and scratched three long vertical lines into the rock at the mouth of the tunnel. He turned back to the girls, who were still standing in the middle of the cavern, watching him.

"I want you to mark the tunnels you enter and exit," Spyro explained, "Like what I just did. Make it different from mine in case these tunnels converge at some point. We don't want to get lost. Got that?"

"Right," Cynder agreed, and move to stand at the tunnel to the left, "I'll mark my tunnels like this."

With a sweep of her lethal talons, the black dragoness gouged three horizontal scratches into the stone. Following Cynder's example, Ember strode over to the tunnel at the right and created her own mark: a set of three diagonal scratches in the stone. Spyro nodded approvingly.

"Good. Now, secondly," he glanced sternly at both of them, "I need you to promise me this: if you come across Alta or even Flame, _don't _try to face them alone. Yell for help. Sound carries well in these caverns. We will come to you. Understand?"

Cynder had never seen him look so serious. She met his eyes briefly and nodded, "I promise."

"Ember?" Spyro turned to her.

She nodded quickly, "I promise, Spyro. Don't worry."

The purple dragon sighed softly, "Good. Thank you…"

"That goes for you too, Spyro."

Startled, he turned to face Cynder, who had spoken. She was staring sternly at him, her emerald eyes full of worry and anxiety for the purple dragon. She met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Don't try to face Alta alone," she insisted. "Yell for help and we'll come. Promise me you'll do that, Spyro. I…I don't want to lose you…"

Spyro stared at her for a long time before he finally nodded. He had planned to deal with Alta on his own, if he was the one to find the oracle dragon. But he knew there was no way he could persuade Cynder to agree with that. Nor could he ever lie to her. They were in this together, after all.

"You won't lose me," he replied gently, moving closer to her. "I promise."

Cynder leant forwards to nuzzle her snout against his, closing her eyes, "Thank you, Spyro. Be careful."

"Same to you," he whispered, before capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Across the cavern, Ember turned away and stared at the rock wall, her face burning. Sparx made a disgusted face, sticking his tongue out, and slapped a hand over his eyes.

"See you soon," Spyro murmured when he released her, and stepped away.

"Ancestors be with you," Cynder replied, extending a wing to touch his face in a gentle farewell.

"And you," Spyro smiled, before turning to face the pink dragoness.

"Ember!" he called, and she quickly looked back at him. "Good luck! May the ancestors look after you."

She smiled gently and nodded, "You too, Spyro. Good luck."

The three of them turned to face their respective tunnels, glancing one last time at each other. Each hoped that it wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

"Be careful," Spyro said to the both of them. "See you soon."

Without another word, Spyro strode into the darkness of the tunnel with only Sparx at his side. He hated to leave the two dragonesses alone, but he knew he didn't have a choice. They had to find Alta and rescue Flame, and if that meant splitting up then so be it. Secretly he hoped that he had chosen the right tunnel, but little did he know how wrong he was.

He and Sparx had been walking for a few minutes when the tunnel opened out into a large cavern. It was completely empty, no sign of Alta or Flame, but it was the walls that drew Spyro's attention. Sparx had noticed it too. The dragonfly hovered away from Spyro, into the middle of the room, staring around at the walls all around him.

"Hey, Spyro, check this out," Sparx called, his voice echoing around the cavern.

"I know," Spyro replied, his voice hushed, staring at the rocks.

There were strange patterns painted on the walls and—Spyro glanced down at his feet—on the floor, too. They were made with earthy colours: dull red, rich brown and pale beige, swirled and twisted into strange, contorted shapes. Something about it seemed oddly spooky, and Spyro couldn't help that prickly feeling in the back of his neck.

"Weird," Sparx muttered, tapping at one of the paintings on the wall. "Kinda creepy, too."

"I don't like this," Spyro muttered, glancing around the cavern. "It's too quiet. Alta isn't here, so where is he?"

Sparx shrugged, "Maybe one of the she-dragons ran into him?"

Spyro stared at a spot on the floor, stained with a deep reddish-brown splodge that reminded him horribly of blood. He shook his head, his eyes full of worry.

"I hope not."

* * *

Ember was scared and she knew it. There was no other way to describe what she was feeling at the moment. The furious pounding of her heart, the prickling feeling on the back of her neck, the trembling of her limbs, the sweat on the pads of her feet and her quick-paced, shallow breathing all pointed to one thing: complete and utter terror. But she didn't turn back, no matter how dark the tunnel was. She had to find Flame; she had to save him. And she wasn't giving up now.

The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, slowly sloping further and further down into darkness, lit only by the occasional torch on the wall. It did her nerves no better when she began to notice the odd patterns that appeared on the walls. The further she went, the more there were; strange, spooky markings that reminded her of pupil-less eyes staring deep into her soul. Her whole body trembled with fear as she tried not to look at the markings. But they were everywhere, covering the rock walls in dark earthy colours that reminded her of dried blood.

Taking deep breaths in an effort to calm her trembling nerves, Ember stared straight ahead and continued on into the darkness. It felt as though she had been walking for hours and she was starting to feel very trapped. But just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, the tunnel suddenly opened out into a dark cavern. Two torches either side of the tunnel she had just come from spread the only light across the rock floor. Ember strained to see anything beyond the pool of flickering orange light, but could see only darkness. She licked her lips nervously and stepped forwards into the light.

"Well, well, seems we have a visitor," said a voice from the darkness across the room, startling the jittery Ember. "Give us some light, Flame."

Ember took a step back as a burst of fire suddenly lit up the rest of the cavern, lighting the previously unlit torches on the walls and at the far side of the cavern. In the light of the fire, Ember could now see clearly what was facing her across the cavern. A grey dragon sat in the centre, completely at ease, with a red dragon standing stiffly at his side. Ember didn't need Spyro here to know who this grey dragon was.

"Y-You're Alta," she whispered, trembling under his icy gaze.

"Yes, I am," he replied in a smooth, amused voice, "no doubt the purple dragon told you all about me? You know, I was expecting _him_ to come, not a little pink dragoness."

Ember felt her muscles seize up in fear as Alta stood up, completely forgetting her promise to Spyro to 'yell for help.' She stared at the grey dragon as he stood in the centre of a pool of firelight, his scales reflecting the golden hue of the flames. He was wearing oddly mismatched pieces of armour that shimmered handsomely in the light.

"So, tell me," Alta said airily, scrutinising her with his innocent blue eyes. "Why are you here instead of him?"

Ember swallowed hard, trying in vain to stop the trembling of her limbs, "I-I came to…to help F-Flame!"

Alta raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

He turned to glance at Flame, who was staring intently at Ember as though trying to remember something. There was something strangely familiar about the pink dragoness, but Flame just couldn't think of what it was.

Shaking his head, Alta turned his amused gaze back to the dragoness, "What makes you think he'd want your help?"

Despite her fear, Ember still found the courage to glare at the grey dragon, "He _needs _my help! I came to save him from you!"

Flame stared at her, his eyes wide. What was she talking about, and who was she? She was so familiar, and yet Flame was sure he'd never met her before. Or had he? So intent was he on watching the pink dragoness, he almost didn't hear Alta's next words.

"A shame, then, that he doesn't want to be saved," Alta hissed, his voice cold and mocking. Ember shrank back from his gaze as he uttered three more words: "Flame, kill her."

For a moment Flame did nothing, standing stock still as he gazed at the pink dragoness. Kill her? Why should he kill her? She hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't want to kill her. But then he felt an uncomfortable tug at the back of his mind and a sharp pain lanced through his head.

'_Kill her!_'snarled a voice in his head. Alta's voice.

A reckless rage swept over the red dragon and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to tear this dragoness limb from limb. He forgot everything he had previously been thinking of, stopped questioning where he was or what he was doing, and suddenly attacked. Alta stepped to the side as the red dragon rushed passed him, teeth bared and claws outstretched, blood-lust shining in his empty golden eyes.

Ember gave a strangled yelp as Flame leapt at her, too stunned by the sight of her friend attacking to yell for help. She felt like there was ice in her veins, weighing her body down, stopping her from moving. But at the last second she came to her senses and rolled out of the way. Flame skidded on the ground as he missed her, digging his claws into the stone and twisting violently around to face her again. Ember scrambled away, unknowingly leaving her back open to Alta. But, fortunately for her, the grey dragon seemed content to merely watch the battle.

A wild snarl echoed from Flame's throat as he bared his ivory fangs at the pink dragoness. She trembled, backing up slowly, her confidence disappearing in the face of danger. The red dragon leapt for her again, his claws hissing barely an inch from her face as she rolled out of the way again. Alta watched with half-hearted interest, stepping calmly out of the way when Flame almost crashed into him.

Ember could feel the blood pumping through her head; her heart felt like it was about to give out. But as Flame turned to face her again, she couldn't help but meet his eyes. If it wasn't for the menacing snarl on his face and the odd emptiness of his eyes, this red dragon would look exactly like her old friend. There was nothing different, he was the same Flame and it was her job to bring him back to his senses. Breathing deeply, Ember felt some of her confidence return and her eyes turned hard with determination. Running away wasn't going to help Flame. She had to act.

"I'm not going to fight you, Flame," she said, her voice steady. "You need to stop."

She leapt to the side as the red dragon let loose a volley of burning flames from his maw. It charred the rock black where she had been standing moments before. Still terrified, but filled with determination, Ember tried again.

"I need you to stop this, Flame. I need you to remember me!" she called. "I need you to remember who I am!"

"He won't," Alta said from across the cavern, looking bored. "You're wasting your breath. Just stand still and let him kill you, won't you? I'm getting bored of this."

Ember ignored him, springing over Flame's back as he charged at her with his horns lowered. She had barely landed on the ground again, when she felt Flame's jaws suddenly clamp down on her tail. A yelp of pain was torn from her throat as the red dragon tugged hard on her tail and dragged her onto her side. Her back slammed into the rock wall as he swung her across the ground and released her.

Ember lay still for a few moments, catching her breath and trying to ignore the stinging pain in her tail and the grazes on her shoulder and wing. She raised her head to face Flame again and saw that his fangs were dripping with her blood. She felt sick and her eyes burned with tears at the sight of him.

"I know you can hear me, Flame," she choked, her voice breaking. "I know you're in there! Please."

It was only a second, but Ember was certain she saw Flame hesitate. She pushed herself upright and staggered towards him, blood dripping from her injured tail. But she was forced to dance to the side again as he lashed out with his talons. They glanced across her chest, leaving shallow scratches in her scales.

"That's enough, Flame," Ember sniffed, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "You don't have to fight me. I know you remember who I am. You just have to fight it. Just…just open your eyes and _look_ at me. You know who I am."

Again, he hesitated and Ember strode slowly towards him until her snout was almost touching his. She saw his snarl waver and fall, and something flickered in the depths of his eyes. Gently, Ember rubbed her snout against his and shifted her body closer to him.

"You know who I am, Flame," she whispered, nuzzling his cheek gently. "It's me, Ember. You remember me, don't you? We're friends."

Flame's body trembled and relaxed, and Ember felt his head move until his cheek was pressed against hers. Her chest was almost touching his and she could feel his every breath.

"Friends…" Flame purred, sounding confused. "Em…ber…?"

Ember smiled and the tears finally fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, "I knew you'd remember. I knew—"

"I told you to kill her!" Alta roared, cutting Ember off and causing the pink dragoness to jump away in shock.

Flame looked stunned for a moment, still caught somewhere between two minds. The grey dragon stalked angrily forwards.

"Kill her, Flame! Now!" he roared, and suddenly Flame began to moan.

He fell to his knees, clutching at his head as he began to shake. Alarmed, Ember made to run towards him, but Alta stood in her way.

"Get back!" the oracle dragon snarled, causing her to stagger backwards in alarm.

"Get up, Flame, and kill her!" Alta roared again, and Flame began to shake his head.

"N-No," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "N-No, I won't!"

"Flame! Fight it!" Ember screeched, trying to dart around Alta. But the grey dragon slammed the flat of his tailblade into her head and she tumbled across the ground.

"I order you to kill her!" Alta snarled at Flame, stalking over to the trembling red dragon. "You don't get to argue! Kill the pink dragoness and do it now!"

But Flame shook his head roughly and staggered back to his feet, scrambling away from both Alta and Ember.

"No!" Flame roared, eyes still squeezed shut as he shook his head as though trying to throw something off. "No, no, no! I won't do it! Get out! Get out of my head!"

With a roar of rage, Alta swung a hefty strike at Flame's head and sent him crashing into the rock wall. His head hit the stone hard and he crumbled to the ground limply, where he lay trembling and wincing as rubble from the wall tumbled over his body. Ember screamed his name, but didn't dare run to him with Alta in the way. The oracle dragon looked disgusted.

"Fine!" he spat, glaring hatefully at the red dragon. "Then I'll do it myself!"

Ember felt her whole body seize up with fear as Alta turned towards her and began to stalk closer. Never had any dragon looked at her with such hate and disgust. She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She wanted to scream for help, but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. All she could do was stare back at him and meet his cold, unforgiving blue eyes.

"I'll kill you myself!" Alta snapped, and slapped Ember viciously across the face.

The force knocked her back across the ground and she scrambled to get to her feet before he got to her. Trembling, Ember began to back up as the grey dragon stalked ever closer. Suddenly she ran into something behind her and glanced behind to see she'd hit the wall. There was nowhere else to run. Alta was too close to escape now, his eyes murderous as he observed his trembling, terrified prey. Ember's limbs almost gave out as she met his gaze. She was trapped.

"You're too much trouble for your own good," Alta snarled, angling his body so that his tailblade was pointed straight for her heart. "It's time I put you out of your misery. Don't worry, I'll make it quick. At least this way you won't have to witness the demise of your entire race!"

Ember whimpered and shut her eyes, preparing for the strike. Neither of them noticed that Flame had begun to move. His eyes took in the scene before him—Ember pinned to the wall as Alta prepared to skewer her—and suddenly his mind felt miraculously clear. Jumping to his feet, the red dragon leapt towards them. As Flame skidded to a halt between Ember and Alta, the oracle dragon drove his tailblade forwards. He hadn't expected Flame to be there, and his eyes widened with shock as the red dragon took the strike instead.

Alta's tailblade drove deep into Flame's chest, the sharp point cutting swiftly through both scales and muscle with ease. Flame grunted and glared at the stunned grey dragon, tasting blood at the back of his throat. His golden eyes burned with hate.

"You will not hurt Ember," he growled, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Shocked, Ember opened her eyes to see Flame standing in front of her. The necklet could be clearly seen around his neck now, back to its original gold colour, and cracks were starting to appear in its normally flawless surface. Alta stared in horror at the red dragon. He wrenched his tailblade out of Flame's chest at the exact same moment that the necklet broke. It shattered into thousands of tiny shards, cascading over the floor as Flame crumpled to the ground.

"M-My necklet," Alta whimpered, eyes wide and horrified, his tailblade coated with Flame's blood.

Flame coughed as blood poured from the wound in his chest and dribbled from his mouth, covering the rock floor. His golden eyes stared wildly around until they came to rest on Ember, who was gazing stunned and horrified at him. A smile appeared on his lips and he whispered two simple words.

"I remember."

Ember could only stare as Flame's eyes closed and he went limp at her feet, his blood staining the rocks. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't even hear—nothing but the pumping of the blood in her head and the heavy thudding of her heart against her ribcage. Her whole body suddenly felt cold and she felt as though all life had just been drained from her soul. She didn't know what to do or what to think; it felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. She wanted to tell Flame to get up, to open his eyes, but she couldn't speak. Suddenly the realisation of what had happened washed over her, and she did the only thing she could do.

Her scream echoed throughout the caverns, a single petrified note.

**A/N: What have I done? Will Flame be alright? That's for me to know and you to find out. :D Get ready for the final confrontation next chapter! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You give me the motivation to write these so fast! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :)**


	26. Deadly Sorrow

**A/N: Another quick update. Where do I find the time? Well, this is it, the final battle. I hope it meets up to your expectations. It probably isn't what you were expecting...**

**26. Deadly Sorrow**

Spyro was right when he guessed that sound carried well in the caverns. The petrified screech of a dragoness echoed through his head, sounding as close as if she had been right beside him. Fear almost made his heart stop as his blood ran cold. He couldn't tell who it was, but one of the dragonesses was in trouble.

"Oh no," he whispered, the blood rushing from his face and turning his scales pale.

Turning a swift half-circle, the purple dragon dug his claws into the stone and dashed back the way he had come. He heard Sparx yell after him, but didn't stop to see if the dragonfly was following.

"Spyro, wait!" Sparx yelled, zipping after his surrogate brother.

Spyro ran as fast as his feet would allow, his claws finding traction on the rough rock beneath his paws. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, the blood pumping hotly through his head.

"Please let them be okay," he chanted, puffing. "Please let them be okay!"

It took him mere seconds to reach the cavern in which he had split up with the two dragonesses. In fact, no sooner had he left his tunnel did he crash straight into Cynder. Evidently, she had been running just as fast as he had. The force with which he hit her sent the both of them tumbling over the floor, where they landed a few feet away in a tangle of limbs and wings. It took Spyro a good moment to regain his breath, his body aching from the heavy collision.

"S-Spyro?" Cynder stammered, rolling to her feet.

Shaking off the stun, Spyro scrambled upright, "Cynder! You're okay!"

The black dragoness shook her head, her emerald eyes worried, "It wasn't me who screamed."

Spyro felt cold, "Then it was…Ember."

Cynder nodded and Spyro suddenly turned towards the tunnel down which Ember had previously gone. Her scratch marks were still visible on the rock at the mouth of the tunnel.

"She's in trouble!" he yelled, dashing into the darkness of the tunnel. "We have to help her!"

Cynder was already hard on his tail, yelling as she followed him into the darkness, "I'm with you, Spyro! Let's do this!"

Moments later, a disgruntled Sparx followed them into the dark tunnel, lighting the way dimly as he went.

"They never wait for me," he grumbled.

* * *

Seriphos wrapped his wings in front of his body, forming a leathery shield to block the grublin that had leapt at his head. He felt it collide with his wings and winced as it tore a scratch in the leathery membrane. Before it could commence another attack, Seriphos lashed out and caught it with the barb of his left wing. The small beast was tossed away and didn't rise again from the ground. But no sooner had he gotten rid of that one did ten more pounce on his body.

"Get away!" the earth dragon roared, tossing his head back and snapping his wings out to their full span. The action sent several grublins tumbling off his back, but they only returned for more.

Prowlus dispatched two grublins at once, satisfied with the way his short sword cut through their bodies, and forced his way through to Seriphos. He beat three of them off the green dragon's back, decapitating one with a single swipe of his blade. Its body tumbled to the ground as the others scrambled, howling, to get away from the cheetah.

"Alright?" Prowlus asked gruffly, stabbing another grublin through the chest.

Seriphos shook himself, sending droplets of blood flying from the cuts that had been inflicted on his back and shoulders by the grublins. He turned to the cheetah chief and nodded once, grateful for the help. They were standing in the middle of a battlefield. Around them hundreds upon hundreds of grublins swarmed the massive cavern, surrounding the tiny force of dragons and cheetahs. They were slowly being pushed into the centre, their backs to each other as they faced the grublins.

"There's too many," Seriphos groaned, swiping several away with a flick of his muscled tail. "I didn't expect to be surprised like this."

"All we can do is fight," Prowlus muttered, taking his bow into his paws and using it as a sort of flexible club to swat away the grublins, "and hope for a miracle."

Seriphos scowled, "I don't believe in miracles. Don't move."

Surprised by the order, Prowlus turned to argue only to see that Seriphos' scales had begun to glow with green energy. Stunned, the cheetah chief remained as still as possible. The grublins swarmed towards them, ready to pounce on the crouching green dragon, but they didn't reach him on time. With a massive roar that echoed around the cavern, Seriphos threw his head to the sky and opened his glowing green eyes. Waves of energy undulated off his body and suddenly pillars of earth began to shoot from the rock floor.

Like vicious stalagmites, the pillars of stone shot upwards from all around Seriphos, impaling several grublins and sending others flying. Prowlus remained as still as he could, eyes wide as he watched the pillars erupt all around him. Somehow, miraculously, they all seemed to miss him and he remained unharmed from Seriphos's earth fury. After several moments, the earthquake slowed and stopped, the pillars of stone sinking back into the floor from whence they had come. The area around the dragon and the cheetah was clear of grublins for the moment, save for the bloodied corpses of many.

Prowlus was speechless. Seriphos stopped glowing and let his head drop, panting and gasping for air, clearly exhausted. The cheetah chief edged closer to him, still on guard as he waited for the grublins to attack again.

"What was that?" he asked, sounding awed.

"Earth fury," Seriphos gasped, sounding very much out of breath. "I won't…be able to do that again."

Prowlus grunted and turned to see the grublins were swarming towards them again. He held his sword and bow ready, one in each paw.

"You'd better get your breath back soon, Seriphos," he growled, "because these grublins aren't going to stop for you."

Not far away, surrounded on all sides by grublins, Naxos and Delos were fighting back to back. Electricity and fire rippled through the rows of grublins as each dragon pushed his powers to the limit. But they were hard pressed to keep their feet as wave after wave of grublin swarmed over them. It never seemed to end.

"Blasted mongrels!" Delos roared, a flaming ball of molten lava shooting from his maw. "You won't bring me down!"

The grublins screeched and howled as their comrades were turned to ash before their very eyes. Jumping over the flaming body of one, another grublin threw his spear in mid jump and landed right between Delos's feet. The red dragon snapped his head back as the spear point sliced his cheek open, right beneath his eye. A ribbon of blood flowed from the wound as Delos snarled with pain and crushed the offended grublin beneath his claws.

"Take that!" Naxos snarled, shooting three orbs of electricity into the throng of grublins. The orbs exploded like fireworks, sending several grublins flying as electricity ripped through their bodies and tore them apart from the inside out. Blood ran from a cut to the back of the yellow dragon's neck, but he ignored the minor wound.

"This doesn't look too good," Delos muttered, backing up until his rump hit Naxos's.

"I know," Naxos replied, swiping at yet another grublin that had dared get close to his claws, "but we can't give up. Remember what we promised Chios?"

Delos's expression hardened. Naxos was right. He'd promised Chios that he would return—alive. And he'd be damned if any army of grublins prevented him from keeping that promise. Gritting his teeth, Delos lowered his head and tensed the muscles in his legs. With a mighty roar the red dragon dashed straight into the ranks of grublins, cutting through them like a flaming knife.

"I promised Chios I'd return!" he roared, spinning a full circle as fire spewed from his jaws. "I will keep that promise!"

Many grublins fell dead, their smoking bodies piling on top of each other. Not to be outdone, Naxos thundered through the throng of grublins, knocking them out of the way with his claws, tail and wings as he ran. Once surrounded on all sides, and well away from Delos, the yellow dragon let his energy loose. Bolts of electricity spiked from every scale on his body, ripping into the grublins all around him. He was like a living lightning storm. When the arcs of electricity disappeared, Naxos turned panting to face Delos.

"How's that?" he grinned, his scales smoking.

"Show off," Delos snorted, expelling a thick cloud of black smoke from his nostrils.

"Same to you," Naxos replied, and the two dragons backed up until they were once again back to back.

"Together?" Delos asked, glaring at the new wave of grublins swarming towards them.

"I don't see why not," Naxos smirked and, as though it had been a signal, the two dragons rose up onto their hind legs. The grublins didn't even reach them.

The combined force of their respective furies was enough to light up the entire cavern and deafen all the inhabitants with the resounding explosion. Fire mixed with bolts of electricity arced through ranks upon ranks of grublins, killing them where they stood. Other dragons and cheetahs were forced to take cover, cowering on the ground as the combined fury swept over them. But somehow they came out unharmed, save for charred fur and smoking scales.

And yet, somehow, even that didn't seem to be enough. The dead grublins were replaced as yet another wave swarmed over their bodies and resumed the attack. It seemed hopeless, but there was one cheetah who seemed to have a plan. Hunter had been fighting back to back with Meadow, the two cheetahs using both their bows and swords to slash at the surrounding enemies. It wasn't long before Hunter had set his sights on the hideous, purple-skinned troll across the cavern.

"Cut off the head and the body will die," he kept muttering to himself, slowly making his way through the sea of grublins towards the troll.

"Meadow," he hissed suddenly, when he and his fellow cheetah were barely three grublins away from the hideous beast, "I need you to cover me."

Meadow looked up, glancing from Hunter to the troll and back again, "What are you planning?"

Slashing a grublin in two with a swift stroke of his sword, Hunter replied, "That beast is obviously the leader. If we can bring him down, we might have a better chance at victory. With the head gone, the body should dissolve into disarray, and we'll have a better chance of fighting our way out. You with me?"

His comrade looked worried, but at last he nodded, "All right, Hunter, we'll do it your way."

Hunter nodded and gripped his sword tighter, his injured leg trembling beneath his weight. He knew it wasn't his best idea to come along on this mission, but he wasn't about to remain alone at Warfang while the rest of his tribe went to battle.

"I just need you to cover me while I deal with it," Hunter muttered to Meadow. "It's got its back to us, so it shouldn't be too hard to bring it down before it knows what's happening. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Meadow murmured back.

With another nod, Hunter crouched low and began to weave his way through the grublins, his sights set on the oblivious troll. Meadow followed, cutting Grublins out of the way and stopping them from jumping on Hunter's back. At last the golden-furred cheetah was close enough to the troll. Stealing his nerves and tensing his muscles, Hunter sprang cat-like towards the beast's back. He drove his sword deep into its shoulder and it uttered an unearthly howl of pain. Before Hunter could get away, the troll turned and swatted the cheetah with its huge, calloused hand.

The wind rushed out of Hunter's lungs as he rolled to a stop on the cold rock floor, his sword still buried deep within the troll's shoulder. He had dropped his bow and it lay several feet away, too far for him to reach. Great thudding footsteps told him that the troll was stomping closer to his prone body.

Trembling, Hunter attempted to push his winded body upright. But his injured leg gave way and he found himself on the floor again, weaponless and out of breath as the troll loomed ever closer. Not far away, Meadow had seen his friend's predicament. Somehow the strike had not killed the troll and now it was advancing on Hunter with its massive club raised.

"Hunter!" Meadow yelled, fighting through the grublins in an effort to get to him, "Hunter, get up!"

The orange-furred cheetah was knocked back as a grublin took advantage of his distraction and caught him an uppercut to the chin. Shaking his head, Meadow retaliated with a sideswipe of his sword that sheered the grublin in two. But he was surrounded by the beasts and could only watch hopelessly as the troll raised its club to crush the defenceless Hunter.

* * *

"Ember, can you hear us?" Spyro yelled as he thundered down the tunnel. "Please, tell us you're okay!"

But there came no reply, much to Spyro's increasing fear. He was running so fast that he reached the end of the tunnel in seconds and skidded to a halt so quickly that Cynder ran into him from behind. She stumbled backwards, shaking her head, but Spyro hadn't moved in inch. It seemed to her that the purple dragon had suddenly turned to stone. Worried about what she would see, Cynder anxiously peered around him.

They stood at the mouth of a cavern, smaller than the others they'd seen, well lit by torches all around the walls. Spyro's gaze was fixed on the image splayed out before him. Ember sat against the wall to his left, her horror-filled eyes fixed on the lifeless body of the red dragon at her feet. Flame's blood spilled over the floor, turning the rock a deep, disturbing crimson colour. Alta stood stunned, his wide blue eyes staring at the limp red dragon and the tiny fragments that were all that remained of his faithful necklet.

Spyro's voice had long deserted him and he could only stare dumbly at the limp body of Flame. His ungraceful entrance into the cavern had alerted Alta, who snapped his gaze towards his two new visitors. His stunned expression changed into one of faint surprise.

"The purple dragon," Alta stated, and then a cold smile crawled onto his face.

Spyro stared from him to Flame and back again, noticing the grey dragon's blood-slicked tailblade. Hot anger boiled through his blood, but it was dulled by sadness and disbelief.

"You…you did this," Spyro hissed, his body trembling.

Alta's smile vanished, his face morphing into an expression of bitter anger, "Of course I did this! Who else would have done it? You didn't think that little pink dragoness could kill her own friend, did you?"

A howl of rage ripped itself from Spyro's throat and he threw himself on Alta before the oracle dragon could react, ignoring Cynder's cry of shock. He and Alta tumbled over each other, snarling and biting, getting tangled in each other's limbs and wings. Spyro could hear Cynder yelling his name, but the furious pumping of blood through his head blocked out her feeble calls. Suddenly, the two male dragons jumped apart, both breathing heavily with exhilaration. Alta looked oddly amused by something.

"Not your best idea, Spyro," he smirked, licking blood from a cut on his muzzle. "You'll want to be careful around these."

Alta raised a paw and waved it around a few times as though to illustrate a point. It was then that Spyro noticed something different about them. Pieces of metal shaped like claws were covering his real talons, and they looked lethal. The vivid poisonous line of green that ran down the centre of each claw did not escape Spyro's notice. Nor did he fail to notice the other familiar artefacts that Alta was wearing.

"I see you've got your jewellery on," Spyro muttered. "Looks like you've got something new, too. What do they do?"

He gestured at the metal claws, but had a feeling he already knew the answer. Something told him those claws were trouble—big trouble. And he couldn't have been more right. Alta smirked, glancing at the metal claws proudly.

"These are a rather special artefact made solely for combat—a favourite of mine. They're armour infused with deadly poison, enough to kill a full grown dragon in mere minutes. I call them the Poison Claws and you, foolish purple one, are about to experience them first hand. A single swipe could end your days for good."

Spyro snorted as though it was none of his concern, but his gaze wavered warily on the Poison Claws. Fighting Alta with those in his possession was extremely dangerous. Even a tiny nick could mean the end. He'd have to be extra careful, and get rid of the Claws as soon as possible. Scowling, Spyro slowly began to circle Alta.

Across the cavern, Cynder had crept over to Ember and Flame and was anxiously inspecting the injured red dragon. Ember was sobbing hysterically over his body, her own body wracked with violent sobs as large tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

"Flame!" she howled, her voice cracking. "Flame, please get up! Please! This isn't right; this isn't what was supposed to happen! You have to get up! Get up, _please_!"

Her loud sobs drowned out the rest of her words as she buried her face in Flame's still warm scales. Cynder tried hopelessly to comfort her distraught friend, though her own eyes felt like they were welling up with tears.

"E-Ember, maybe we…we can help him," Cynder suggested, her voice trembling. "This can't be the end. He…he can't die from this."

But Ember made no response, only shaking her head as she sobbed continuously over her lifeless friend. Cynder glanced down at the deerskin pouch fastened around her foreleg and an idea sprang into her head. She undid the knot with a claw and took the pouch into her paw.

"Ember, look, Chios gave me this," Cynder insisted, trying to gain the sobbing Ember's attention. "I-It's full of herbs that can help with injuries. Maybe…maybe it can help Flame. W-We have to try!"

Ember shook her head again, speaking between sobs, "I-It's too l-late! He—he's a-already g-gone!"

She howled mournfully as a fresh wave of tears poured from her eyes. Cynder felt her heart ache with sorrow, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill from her own eyes. But she was determined to help, despite Ember's sobs. Conscious of Alta and Spyro having a verbal match behind her, Cynder emptied the pouch of its contents. Several pale green leaves fell into her paw. They were soft to the touch and very supple. When she raised them to her nose, they smelt fresh and pleasant. Sure, Cynder knew they weren't as good as red gems, but maybe they could help.

Trying to ignore Ember's howling sobs, Cynder crouched down to inspect the mound in Flame's chest. It was thin but deep, and copious amounts of blood still gushed from it. She wasn't sure how to use these herbs that Chios had given her, so she did the only thing that seemed right. As carefully as she could, Cynder packed the leaves into the bloody wound like a seal. Flame's blood gushed over her claws and the sight made her feel nauseous, but the seal of herbs seemed to be working. The blood flow was slowing, until it hardly leaked at all, much to Cynder's relief.

"That's the best I can do," she sighed, but Ember barely seemed to realise that she had done anything. The pink dragoness continued to sob uncontrollably, her face buried in Flame's scales.

Unsure what else to do, Cynder stood up and turned around in time to see Sparx flutter into the cave. He looked from Spyro to Alta, and then to Cynder, clearly stunned about what was going on. Cynder waved him over, beckoning with a claw.

"Stay with her," she muttered to the stunned dragonfly, "I'll help Spyro."

"Right," Sparx muttered, staring at Flame's bloodied body, "you do that."

"Too afraid to attack now, Spyro?' Alta asked, amused by Spyro's caution. "Not that I blame you. One scratch from these claws and it's all over for you."

Spyro bared his teeth in a snarl, crouching into a battle stance, "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you. Once I get rid of those claws, the rest of your artefacts are next. Then it will just be you and me."

Alta's face turned ugly, "Just try it!"

With a snarl, the two dragons leapt at each other once more. Spyro tried as best he could to avoid the poisonous claws of his opponent, unwittingly leaving himself open to Alta's biting jaws. Spurred on by the vision he had seen previously, Alta sank his teeth deep into the back of Spyro's neck. The purple dragon howled in agony, throwing his head back in an attempt to throw his attacker off. But Alta held on fast, his teeth buried deep in Spyro's flesh and the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

"Get away from him!" Cynder screamed, launching herself at the grey dragon.

Startled, Alta released Spyro from his hold as Cynder rammed straight into his ribcage. The two dragons rolled onto the floor, Cynder on top of Alta, who struggled to get up. Spyro shook his head, blood streaming from the injury in the back of his neck, and turned in alarm to see Alta throw Cynder off.

"Watch out, Cynder!" he yelled. "His claws are poisoned!"

Cynder faltered, surprised, "What?"

Alta took advantage of her distraction, a cold smile appearing on his lips, "Too late, Spyro. She's about to find that out herself!"

He swung a hefty paw at Cynder, the metal claws digging deep into her shoulder and tearing long gashes in her scales. She screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground, blood running down her leg and dripping on the floor. Spyro screamed as he saw her go down, watched as the Poison Claws ripped into her flesh.

"No! CYNDER!" he yelled, horrified.

Alta skipped away, laughing softly, the metal claws now slick with Cynder's blood. His eyes glinted maniacally in the firelight as he grinned madly. Spyro dashed to the black dragoness's side, hardly able to believe this was happening.

"It's no use, Spyro," Alta smirked, clearly pleased, "the poison will already have spread through her body. She'll be dead within the minute."

Spyro knelt at Cynder's side, his horrified eyes sweeping over her body, coming to rest on her closed eyes. She didn't move, her blood rolling in droplets down her scales as the edges of her wounds turned a ghastly shade of green.

"N-No…' Spyro whimpered, shaking his head feverishly, tears pooling in his eyes. "No, this can't be happening! Cynder, Cynder, please, get up! This isn't happening!"

She didn't respond and Spyro felt his heart break, like a fragile piece of crystal put under too much pressure. His body shook as his eyes burned with tears. He could hear Alta chuckling softly in the background and suddenly rage began to course through his body. Leaving Cynder lying on the ground, Spyro rose to his feet and turned a hateful glare on the oracle dragon.

"You,' he snarled, his voice echoing deeply, his eyes beginning to glow white. "Look what you've done! How _dare _you! You killed her! You killed Cynder! I'll…I'll kill you!"

Alta dodged as Spyro leapt at him, still laughing in the face of the purple dragon's reckless anger. Again Spyro came for him, but Alta's speed was too much for him and he tumbled across the rocky ground. As the purple dragon struggled to get up, Alta approached from behind. He leapt at Spyro, metal claws ready to pierce into his soft flesh.

* * *

"Get up, Hunter!"

Hunter groaned as he heard Meadow calling his name. He tried again to get up, but his leg would not support his weight. A shadow fell over his body and he rolled over in time to see the hideous troll looming over him. The hilt of Hunter's sword protruded from the beast's shoulder, but it didn't seem to hinder it at all as it raised its club high above its head. Hunter knew there wasn't enough time to avoid the club and he could only stare helplessly into the face of what was to be his demise.

But something strange happened to the troll right before his eyes. He heard the sound of several sickening thuds, of something piercing flesh, and watched the troll's expression turned to one of bemused shock. Its eyes glazed over, the life disappearing from them, and it swayed on its feet. Hunter forced his body to scramble out of the way, moments before the beast fell with a crash upon the ground. Its club rolled away as it laid face first in the rocky ground. Staring at the beast's back, Hunter saw what had killed it.

Five icicles, each the length and thickness of Hunter's arm, protruded from the back of the troll. The icicles had pierced through its tough purple skin and penetrated deep into its flesh. Startled, Hunter stared wildly around for his saviour. His eyes fell on a dragon standing not far away—a dragon in his prime, with musky blue scales and shimmering purple eyes. Something about him seemed oddly familiar.

"Y-You…" Hunter stuttered, unable to find any other words to say.

"Are you okay?" asked the blue dragon, walking over to the cheetah, who was still on the ground.

"Y-Yes, thanks to you," Hunter replied, pushing himself upright with the help of the dragon's wing. He stared at his saviour, trying to figure out where he had seen him before. It was a while ago that he had last seen this dragon, but suddenly Hunter realised who he was.

"You…you're Feldun!" the cheetah stuttered, his eyes wide and staring.

The blue dragon raised a curious eyebrow, "That I am. Have we met before, friend?"

Hunter shook his head, "Not directly. I am Hunter of Avalar. I led one of the search parties. And you…you are the leader of the missing search party!"

Feldun nodded, glancing around at the battlefield within the cavern, "Yes, I imagine you have come here in search of us? You did well to find us."

"Are the rest of the search party with you?"

"That they are," Feldun's face cracked into a smile. "They're around somewhere. We'll explain everything later, but for now I think we could use some help."

"Help?" Hunter had no idea what he was talking about. Who was there to help them here? The search party should number only nine, not nearly enough to fight off the massive army of grublins.

"Of course," Feldun grinned, "just watch."

Ignoring Hunter's confused look, the blue dragon raised his head to the ceiling and let loose a roar that reverberated around the cavern. Heads turned to look at him, but their attention was distracted as another roar answered him from somewhere. Dragons, cheetahs and grublins all looked around to see who it was that had answered. Another roar sounded, followed by another, and soon the whole cavern was full of roars that echoed around the walls.

"Look up," Feldun smirked, and Hunter did just that.

Suddenly, before his very eyes, dragons began to pour from the tunnels around the walls, some even dropping from the honeycombed ceiling. Hundreds upon hundreds of dragons, their scales glimmering with different colours and hues, poured into the cavern from every orifice. Hunter could only stare in wonder as dragons of all shapes and sizes joined the battlefield.

"H-How is this possible?" Seriphos stuttered, eyes wide as he observed several dragons the size of Spyro and Cynder glide down to join the battle.

No one had the answer for him, but for now that didn't matter. All that mattered was that now they weren't alone. Now they had a fighting chance. Now it was time for the dragons to strike back.

* * *

"Die, purple dragon!" Alta howled, his eyes alight with victory.

But he didn't even reach Spyro. Something hard and heavy collided with him from the side and he found himself on the ground, gazing up into the emerald eyes of Cynder. She was furious, her teeth bared in a vicious snarl as she dug her claws into his shoulders. Alta stared at her in disbelief.

"How…you should be dead!" he stuttered, aghast that she was somehow still breathing.

"C-Cynder…?" Spyro whispered, hardly able to believe his eyes.

The black dragoness snarled in Alta's face, her eyes glowing with anger. The grey dragon swallowed hard, barely able to move beneath her weight.

"Funny thing about poison," Cynder hissed, her voice deadly. "It doesn't work on me!"

With a howl of anger, Cynder slashed Alta viciously across the face. Roaring with pain, Alta struggled beneath her and managed to kick her off. He scrambled to his feet as she landed not so far away, still snarling. Spyro was staring at her in both awe and relief. Cynder slowly circled around Alta until she was in front of the purple dragon. She glanced behind her.

"Stand back, Spyro," she ordered, sounding more like her old corrupted self, "and let me deal with these _poison claws_."

Turning swiftly back to Alta, Cynder opened her mouth and expelled a spray of venomous acid in his direction. He yelped in surprise and danced out of the way, wincing as several drops fell onto his leg and burnt through his scales. Cynder stalked closer, the makings of a smirk on her confident face.

"Poison is one of my elements," she purred, grinning toothily. "If there's anything I should thank Malefor for, it is the strange gifts he bestowed upon me when he corrupted me with darkness. I am immune to all poisons now, thanks to him."

Alta glared at her, his lip curling, "So you truly are _that _Cynder, the Terror of the Skies. I had my suspicions. To think that you would desert Malefor and join that weakling of a purple dragon…"

Cynder snarled at his words, "Spyro is not weak!"

Alta ignored her, "If you hadn't deserted the Dark Master, he may have succeeded in destroying this world! It's thanks to you that we are all still alive, Cynder! It's thanks to you that I am forced to finish what Malefor started and fulfil the prophecy that _I _foretold! You should never have deserted him!"

Cynder rose up on her hind legs as Alta leapt to meet her, their front paws clasping, their claws locking together as each tried to bite at the other. Alta pushed hard, attempting to knock Cynder over onto her back, but was surprised when Cynder ducked. She rolled onto her back, using her momentum to catch Alta in the stomach with her hind legs and kick him over her head. He hit the wall with enough force to shake the whole cavern and struggled to get up.

"Don't speak about my past like that!" Cynder screeched, her eyes glowing with anger. "Malefor corrupted me, turned me against my own race, robbed me of my childhood! Spyro saved me from his grasp, and I'm glad he did! Deserting Malefor was the best thing I ever did!"

"Damned dragoness," Alta spat, struggling back to his feet and spitting a glob of his own blood on the floor. "You may be ashamed of your past…but you were better when you were a monster."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Spyro yelled, suddenly angry.

He charged recklessly at the oracle dragon, but Cynder pushed him out of the way. He stumbled to the side, surprised by her actions as she planted herself firmly between him and Alta.

"No, Spyro, leave this to me," Cynder insisted. "If he scratches you with those claws, you won't be nearly as lucky as me."

Spyro opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off as Alta moved to attack. The grey dragon leapt the distance between them, shrieking, "You can't protect him, dragoness! He'll die at my claws sooner or later!"

"You're despicable!" Cynder screamed back, whipping her tail around and slapping him across the face with her tailblade.

Alta stumbled and lost his balance, but somehow managed to bite down on Cynder's tailblade as he fell. The black dragoness was dragged down with him, shrieking and snarling as she strained to scratch at him. Spyro tried to move forward to help, but Cynder wrenched her tail from Alta's grasp and whipped it dangerously close to Spyro's face. He stopped dead.

Kicking Alta in the chin, Cynder pressed him to the ground with a paw on his chest. Though he struggled to get up, he was unable to stop her from swiping at his left forepaw. Her talons caught on the metal claws, tearing them off his paw and sending them skittering across the ground. Alarmed, Alta managed to scramble away before she could remove the other one. He was panting heavily, but so was Cynder. She stalked cat-like around him, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"That's one," she hissed, eyes glinting in the firelight, "now for the other."

Alta snarled, "Not likely."

Cynder pounced, catching him by surprise as she yelled, "We'll see!"

But suddenly Alta wasn't there anymore. It was as though he had disappeared into thin air. Cynder landed gracefully, staring around in surprise as she wondered where the grey dragon had gone. Spyro knew what had happened. It was the same trick Alta had used on him at Warfang. No doubt he had turned himself invisible with the aid of that ring around his tail. Well, it was high time he disposed of that ring.

Closing his eyes, Spyro focused on his element of earth. With it, he could feel the vibrations through the ground of creatures when they walked. He could sense Alta's movements, sneaking ever closer to his body. No doubt he was going to try a sneak attack with those poison claws while Cynder was confused. Acting swiftly, Spyro rolled to the side just as the invisible Alta struck out at him. Fire burst from his jaws, straight into the invisible dragon, confirmed by the yowl of pain that seemed to come out of thin air.

Suddenly Alta appeared again, much to Cynder's surprise. He glared hatefully at Spyro, who was crouched low ready to attack.

"You knew I was there," Alta muttered bitterly, several of his scales charred by the purple dragon's flames.

"Don't underestimate me," Spyro shot back, swishing his tail lethally, aware that Cynder was slowly sneaking up behind the grey dragon, "I have more power than you could ever imagine."

"Oh?" Alta sneered. "And yet I could kill you with a single swipe of my claws!"

He made to strike at Spyro with the remaining metal claws, but was startled when Cynder suddenly jumped on his back and flattened him to the ground.

"I don't think so!" she crowed, swiping the metal claws off his paw and sending it skittering across the ground to join its partner across the other side of the cavern.

"No!" Alta yelped as his weapons slid out of his reach. Angrily, he bucked Cynder off his back and spun around to face her.

"You damn dragoness!" he roared, pouncing at her. "I'll deal with you first!"

Cynder dodged and skipped out of the way, avoiding Alta's swipes in an almost teasing manner. Spyro watched carefully, well aware that Alta had several more tricks at his disposal. As Cynder danced out of his reach, Spyro noticed that Alta backed away as though he was getting ready to charge. The anklets around his forelimbs glowed briefly and suddenly Alta became nothing more than a grey blur. There was no way Cynder could avoid him, but Spyro had time on his side.

The world slowed down as Spyro activated Dragon Time. He could see Cynder standing still in the centre of the cave, her eyes wide and shocked as Alta sped towards her. The grey dragon was in mid charge, his head lowered and all four of his paws off the ground. As Spyro's power couldn't truly _stop _time, Alta was still moving. But he was moving very slowly, making an easy target for the purple dragon.

Spyro charged forwards and struck Alta at the same time he released his hold on time. The grey dragon was propelled into the wall, hitting it so hard that rubble rained down on him. Spyro pounced on him before he could recover. His jaws fastened around the transparent ring on Alta's tail and he bit down hard.

"Get off!" Alta yelped, in a strangely high-pitched voice. "Get off me!"

But Spyro didn't let go until he felt the ring shatter between his jaws. Alta howled in pain as pieces of the broken ring imbedded themselves in his tail. Spyro backed away, spitting pieces of the ring out of his mouth, along with several drops of blood. Alta stared in horror at the purple dragon.

"Y-you broke it!" he whimpered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"No more tricks," Spyro narrowed his eyes. "You can't turn invisible any more. Now it's time for me to deal with the rest of your artefacts."

Alta lurched forwards before Spyro could react, his horns colliding with Spyro's chest and sending him backwards. The purple dragon rolled to a stop at Cynder's feet and she leapt over him, taking a defensive stance in front of his body. Alta stalked closer, his eyes glittering with anger but beginning to look worried.

"Don't touch him," Cynder hissed, swishing her lethal tail.

The grey dragon launched himself at her, but Spyro suddenly leapt over her and caught him by surprise. He rammed Alta in the chest, flipping the grey dragon onto his back and pouncing on him.

"Go to Ember!" Spyro yelled to Cynder. "I can handle this!"

"What?" Cynder shrieked, clearly appalled by the idea.

"Just go!" Spyro roared before grasping one of Alta's anklet's between his jaws. The grey dragon struggled to get free, but Spyro's body was pinning him to the ground.

There was a resounding snap as the anklet broke between Spyro's jaws, and Alta howled in agony as his paw was crushed with it. Cynder gave them one last look before turning and dashing back to Ember, who hadn't moved at all. Sparx was hovering beside her, his hands pressed firmly over his eyes. Cynder took a stance in front of them, ready to help Spyro if she was needed.

The purple dragon slithered away from Alta, who pushed himself to his feet and was now standing on three legs. His injured paw he held close to his body, tears of pain welling in his eyes. Spyro noticed now that he didn't seem remotely confident. Then, to his surprise, he saw Alta shake off the other, undamaged anklet. Spyro's eyes widened and he understood.

"Doesn't work without the other one, huh?" Spyro asked coldly. "Looks like you're running short on tricks now, Alta."

The oracle dragon glared, "It's no matter. You still can't win. As long as I have this helm, I can read your every move."

Spyro shook his head slowly, a smirk on his face, "I know, but…"

He slowed down time once more and rammed straight into Alta before releasing it again. The grey dragon bounced across the ground and came to a stop where he lay wincing. Spyro stalked closer.

"Even if you know what I'm going to do, it doesn't mean you can stop it," he finished, standing over the trembling Alta. He reached over and hooked a claw beneath the brow of the helm, flicking it off the oracle dragon's head without much trouble at all.

Alta watched helplessly, horrified, as the helm came to rest near Spyro's back leg. The purple dragon glanced at it briefly, and then brought his paw forcefully down on top of it. It shattered instantly into several pieces that Spyro swept away with his tail. Trembling, Alta staggered to his feet and backed slowly away. He was afraid now, there was no mistaking it.

"Now all you've got left is those," Spyro said, glancing at the rings around Alta's horns, "you're about as good as defeated, Alta."

"N-No," Alta whimpered, shaking his head feverishly as he backed away. "N-No, this can't be right. I-I've come too far! I can't let you win now!"

The rings on his horns glowed as he tossed his head and Spyro braced himself for what was to come. But nothing happened, until he heard Cynder scream. Alarmed, the purple dragon spun around to see Cynder rising slowly into the air, surrounded by a glimmering blue light.

"Spyro! What's going on?" she yelped, kicking her legs in an attempt to escape from the unseen force.

"It's one of his tricks!" Spyro yelled back, before turning to glare at Alta. "Let her go!"

Alta's eyes glinted with a wild madness, "Not so confident when your little dragoness is in danger, eh? Let's see how she likes this!"

With a jerk of his head, Alta sent Cynder's body slamming straight into the wall, high up near the roof of the cavern. She gave a scream of pain that was cut short as rubble cascaded down from the roof. Alta released her, letting her fall to the floor in a shower of rock and rubble.

"Cynder!" Spyro yelled, diving to catch her.

He skidded across the floor and felt the breath leave his lungs as the black dragoness landed heavily on his back. A shower of rubble fell over the both of them, half burying them in rock and dust. Coughing, Spyro raised his head.

"You okay?" he asked Cynder, and felt her roll off his back.

"Yeah," she shook herself, sending dirt and rock flying, smiling at the purple dragon. "Thanks, Spyro."

Spyro pushed himself to his feet and moved until he was standing between Cynder and Alta. The oracle dragon looked annoyed that neither of them had been badly injured by his little trick.

"It's time I got rid of those," Spyro growled, and took a running leap at the startled Alta.

He passed straight over the grey dragon's head, swiping the rings off his horns in the process and causing Alta's head to jerk backwards. Spyro landed behind him and crushed the two rings between his talons before Alta could protest. Alta looked stunned—and oddly naked without the many artefacts on his body.

"There," Spyro said, looking and feeling accomplished, "now it's just you and me. No more of this strange artefact business. So, what now, Alta?"

The grey dragon began to back away, glancing wildly around the room for an escape route. Spyro was blocking the one tunnel that led out of this cavern, and Alta had nowhere else to run. But even if he could have escaped, he wouldn't want to. When he had seen that vision, of Spyro in his own caverns, this was not what he had been expecting.

"H-How can this…how can this be?" he whimpered, still backing up. "I can't…I can't let you defeat me! This isn't how it's supposed to be! This isn't what's supposed to happen! No, no, no!"

Spyro sighed and shook his head, "Face it, Alta you've l—"

But he was interrupted by a series of howls and screeches from somewhere deep within the caverns. Spyro paused to listen, as did Alta and everyone else in the cavern.

"My grublins…" the oracle dragon muttered, eyes wide and horrified. "They're…they're dying!"

Listening hard, Spyro realised he was right. Those were the dying screams of grublins in pain and agony. No doubt Seriphos and the squadron were doing their job. Spyro smiled grimly.

"Your army is being slaughtered by my dragons," he said. "Now it's time for you to surrender."

"No…NO! You can't kill my grublins!" Alta howled, dashing towards Spyro. "I need them! I _need _them to fulfil my vision! I can't do it without them!"

Spyro blocked his way, spreading his wings, and Alta backed up yet again. The oracle dragon's eyes were wide and shining with fear and disbelief. His body trembled, tears welling in his innocent blue eyes.

"You can't win! This can't be happening!" Alta cried, his voice breaking. "I have to kill you to fulfil my vision! Why…why aren't you dead? Why aren't I dead? Why aren't we _all_ dead?"

"Alta, listen, you can't keep thinking like that. Your prophecy was never going to come true…" Spyro tried to reason, but the oracle dragon wouldn't listen.

"No! I saw a vision! I saw the end of dragon kind! A vision is never wrong! Never!" Alta began to sob, tears breaking and rolling down his muzzle. "So why isn't everyone dead? I'll tell you why! Because you screwed everything up! You stopped my vision from coming true and now…now you won't even let me set things right! We're all supposed to be _dead_; it's what was meant to happen! So why won't you let me set things right? Why are you so _cruel_?"

"You're speaking nonsense!" Spyro insisted, taking a step closer to the distraught dragon. "Think about what you're saying! Isn't it better that everyone is still alive? What does it matter if your vision was wrong, if the end result is better than what you thought would happen?"

"Better? Better?" Alta laughed suddenly, a strange, high-pitched laugh that made him sound no less than insane. "You think this is _better_? Then why are they all _dead? _I saw the end of all dragons, not just my tribe! How can this possibly be BETTER?"

"Alta, I understand you're upset, I know I would be too, but your tribe wouldn't want you to think that way! You know that!"

"Don't speak about them as if you understood!" Alta howled, his tears splashing the ground. "They're all dead! I'm all that's left! Me! Forced to carry on the legacy of the mighty oracle dragons; forced to right the wrongs that _you _caused! We are living in a world where dragons are meant to be extinct, and yet you insist on living! Why? Why won't you let me set things right?"

He had stopped backing up now and stood in the centre of the cavern, tears rolling down his cheeks, surrounded by his broken artefacts. Spyro stared sadly at him, wondering why he couldn't get through to this disturbed young oracle dragon. Somehow he had to get through to him. Somehow he had to make him see what was right. But Spyro wasn't prepared for what was to happen next.

Alta swung his tail around, ignoring Spyro's startled gaze, and pressed his own tailblade up against his neck. All it would take was one swift cut and Alta could swiftly end his own life. Spyro was stunned. He couldn't move an inch as he stared in horror at the grey dragon in front of him. Never had be expected Alta to threaten such a thing. Would he truly take his own life?

"Alta," Spyro whimpered. "Alta, what are you doing?"

The grey dragon pressed his trembling tailblade against the soft flesh beneath his chin, tears rolling down his face, "You expect me to live in a world as messed up as this? It doesn't make any sense! If I saw the end of dragon kind, why did only _my_ clan die? What did we do wrong? That's not how it was supposed to be! This world is no longer meant for dragons, can't you see that? You stopped my vision from coming true and you destroyed the natural order of this world! I don't want to be a part of it!"

"Alta, stop!" Spyro began to move towards him, desperately trying to stop him from doing what he was threatening to do. "You don't have to do this! It doesn't have to be this way! Think of your clan!"

"My clan?" Alta stared coldly at Spyro, stopping the purple dragon in his tracks. "My clan died for the vision I saw. They died because this world was no longer meant for dragons. They were the only ones. I stayed alive in an effort to right the wrongs that you caused when you defeated Malefor. I stayed alive to kill you! But you won't even let me do that! Go ahead. Continue living in a world that isn't meant for you! But I…I will join my clan!"

Tears rolled down his cheeks, his eyes glinting with madness and sorrow as he whispered, "I'm thinking of my clan, Spyro, and I'm going to join them. I won't stay alive in a world where I don't belong. I won't stay alone any longer."

"Stop!" Spyro screamed, his voice shrill, but he couldn't stop the oracle dragon when he had made up his mind. "Alta, no!

Swifter than the eye could follow, Alta drew his tailblade across his throat. The vicious edge sliced through scales and sinew, driving deep into his flesh. Blood spurted from his neck, spilling over his chest and chin, splattering the ground. Spyro wasn't aware he was screaming, even though he could hear his own high-pitched scream as Alta seemed to fall in slow motion to the floor. He crumpled to the ground, a limp skin of grey scales and crimson blood.

Spyro's scream died away as he became aware that he was the one screaming, and he fell into horrified silence as he watched Alta's lifeblood pool across the floor. A gurgling sound told him that the dying dragon was trying to say something. His blue eyes searched wildly around the room until they came to rest on Spyro. The purple dragon couldn't say a word or move a muscle; he was as good as a statue.

"Y-Yo...ou…ru-rui…ined…e-ever…ry…" Alta hissed, but he never finished his last word. The light in his blue eyes died away but they remained wide and staring, as blank as empty tunnels. Blood leaked from his open mouth, staining his fangs as his tongue lolled limply on the floor. He never moved again.

Spyro felt as though the whole world had just melted away around him. He felt as though he stood in the middle of a void, staring wordlessly at the lifeless body of Alta. The oracle's innocent blue eyes stared blankly at him, no longer seeing, but Spyro felt as though they could see into his very soul. He felt dirty, guilty, unworthy, as though Alta's blank stare was an accusation he couldn't deny. Suddenly, like a cold wave, realisation washed over the purple dragon.

"No! _NO_!" Spyro shrieked, his voice high-pitched and shrill as he dashed towards the body of Alta. "No, Alta, get up! You're not dead! You can't be dead! Stop joking around! Get up! Get up, get up, _get up_!"

His claws gripped the dead dragon's shoulder—the warmth was slowly draining from Alta's scales—and shook him roughly. Spyro wasn't aware that there were tears spilling from his eyes.

"You're not dead! You're not dead! Dammit, Alta!" Spyro sobbed, continuing to shake the grey dragon. "I was supposed to save you! You aren't supposed to die! Why won't you get up! Get up!"

He heard the sound of claws on stone, someone running towards him, and Cynder's voice reached him from afar. But he ignored it.

"Spyro! Spyro, look at me!" Cynder cried, but the purple dragon continued to feebly shake Alta's limp body. No matter how angrily he tried to order Alta to get up, the dead dragon would not respond.

"Spyro!" Cynder grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face her. She wrapped her wings around him, holding him firm as he struggled to get out of her hold and back to Alta.

"No, you don't understand!" he was sobbing. "I have to save him! I'm supposed to save him! Cynder, he's not dead! He can't be dead!"

"Spyro, there's nothing you can do," Cynder protested, her voice breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks. Never had she seen Spyro like this before. "He's gone."

"That's not right," Spyro sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder. "That can't be right. I should have saved him. I was supposed to save him! But I…I couldn't…I couldn't save him…"

His weeping merged with that of Ember's, his tears mingling with Cynder's tears as the black dragoness held him tight. He couldn't bring himself to look at the body of the grey dragon anymore. He didn't want to see what Alta had done to himself. He had tried to save the oracle dragon, but it was all for nothing. Now there was nothing he could do to save Alta. All he could do was sit and weep—weep for the two dragons he had set out to save, who now lay robbed of life upon the floor.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

* * *

There was standing room only within the cavern. Piles of grublins, the dead and the dying littered the floor all around. Dragons everywhere stood in silence, observing the dying moments of the pitiful beasts. It was over. There was nothing left to do, no more grublins left to kill. The smell was nauseating, made worse by the space within which they were cramped, which now seemed a lot smaller than before.

No one said a word, not dragon or cheetah. They felt as though all words had been lost, like the lives of the hundreds of grublins in the heat of the battle. They had fought with all their strength, found confidence in their numbers, felt accomplished whenever they killed an enemy. But now, when there were no more left to kill, they just felt dirty.

"Momma…" said a voice, a small female voice that rang hauntingly through the battlefield.

All eyes turned to a small green dragon, no older than a hatchling. It was she who had spoken, standing protected between the legs of her much larger mother.

"Momma, I don't like it in here," she said softly, her voice carrying in the silence. "I want to go."

A short silence followed, until Seriphos spoke. He stood in the centre of the cavern, Prowlus at his side, surrounded by the mounds of dead grublins. He looked just as shaken up as the small hatchling, as did everyone else in the room.

"The little one is right," he sighed, glancing around at the hundreds of dragons that had joined him in the cavern. "I think it's time to go."

As though his words had been an order, the dragons and cheetahs slowly began to make their way out of the cavern, down the tunnel towards the entrance to this maze of caverns and caves. No longer did they wish to be here, amidst a field of death and suffering. It was time to leave.

**A/N: Not what you were expecting? I know suicide is a touchy subject, so I apologise if I offended anyone. I'm sorry if you wanted Alta to live, but I knew from the very start that he was going to die this way. T_T I feel a little bad about killing him now, though. And all the grublins are gone, too. What's with all the dragons, huh? What have Feldun and the search party been doing all this time? All will be explained in the final chapter. This was one of the most horrible things I've ever written...but I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Tell me what you thought about this chapter, whether I wrote it well and whether it was a fitting end for my poor sad Alta. I'll see you all next time for the final chapter. :)**


	27. Healing

**A/N: Here it is at last. The final chapter of Tears of an Oracle. I never thought I'd get this far. So, this chapter is for everyone who's ever reviewed, because you gave me the motivation to keep writing. Thanks a bunch, I hope you enjoy this final chapter. :)**

**27. Healing**

They stood in the centre of a cavern of misery, death and despair, averting their eyes from the limp dragon on the floor. Only the wracking sobs of Ember broke the cold silence, but she was not the only one shedding tears. Spyro's tears flowed soundlessly, wetting Cynder's shoulder where he had laid his head. Her wings were wrapped tightly around his body, an attempt to comfort and console the purple dragon. But even she could not halt the steady flow of tears.

"Flame…" Ember's whisper broke haltingly through her sobs, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

But he couldn't hear her. His eyes were closed to the world, perhaps forever. Sniffing, Spyro managed to compose himself enough to raise his head from Cynder's shoulder. He turned his gaze to the sobbing pink dragoness who had draped herself over the unmoving body of Flame. Spyro's heart had never felt so low, as though it would never rise again. He had no words to say to Ember, nothing to console her or ease her pain. What could he say to a dragoness who had just lost the one she loved?

"I-I couldn't s-save you," Ember sobbed softly, her voice muffled. "I tr-tried but I…I'm sorry, Flame…I-I failed you…I failed you..."

Guilt weighed heavily on Spyro's heart. It was not Ember who had failed. No, it was him. He had promised to save both Flame and Alta, but now the both of them lay lifeless, lost in the clutches of death. How could he have let this happen? He wanted to tell Ember it wasn't her fault, but he felt as though he'd lost his voice. And he knew Ember would never listen to him. She would blame herself to the end of her days.

Cynder curled her tail around Spyro's, pressing against him and curling a wing over his back. She averted her eyes from the body of Alta, who lay limp and bloodied in the centre of the cavern. But she could not tear her eyes away from Ember and the lifeless body of Flame. She blinked furiously, trying to will away the tears that constantly fell from her eyes.

"F-Flame, please…come back to me," Ember pleaded, her voice no more than a whisper between sobs. "I-I don't want to…to live without you. Th-There were s-so many things I wanted…wanted to tell you. I n-never got to say h-how much I cared about you! I l-left it too late…"

The tears rolled down her muzzle, splashing on Flame's blood-red scales. He still wore the anklets Alta had given him and they pulsed feebly with red light, unable to heal such a devastating wound. Cynder turned her face away, shutting her eyes against her own tears and pressing her head beneath Spyro's chin. Ember's blue eyes sparkled like gems, glistening with tears as she gazed upon the peaceful face of Flame. Her eyes were full of unspeakable pain and unbearable sorrow.

"I w-wanted to tell you how much you meant to me! I wanted you t-to know that it was _you _I c-cared for!" Ember cried, her voice full of meaning. "I-it wasn't Spyro…he was just a f-friend. I-I only wanted t-to make you jealous! I wanted y-you t-to see me, to n-notice me! I-I…"

It was as though everything inside her had been building up to this moment, all of her emotions and feelings coming to the surface and bursting out as she cried, "I _love _you, Flame!"

She collapsed over his body again, sobbing into his scales as she repeated in a halting whisper, "I love you…"

Spyro and Cynder had embraced, shedding tears on each other's shoulders, their wings entwined as their bodies shook with grief. They didn't say a word, until a gruff voice broke haltingly through the silence.

"It's…about time," mumbled the voice, followed by a weak cough and a deep shaky intake of breath. "Why didn't you just…tell me…instead of flirting with…Spyro…?"

Ember's tears halted suddenly as her head shot up in shock. Spyro and Cynder turned towards the voice, their eyes wide with amazement, daring to let hope into their hearts. Flame opened his eyes slowly, wincing, and they met Ember's almost instantly. A weak smile crossed his face.

"F-Flame…?" Ember whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief as the tears dried on her cheeks. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Flame was staring at her, smiling as though nothing had happened. He was _alive_.

"The one and only," he grinned, and raised his head off the ground. He winced and held a paw to his chest, glancing down to see his wound had been sealed off with what looked like leaves. It still hurt—a lot—but no longer was blood pouring out of his body at an alarming rate. His anklets pulsed one last time and cracks spider-webbed across their surface before they shattered and fell from his paws.

"Y-you're alive…" Ember whispered, staring at him in awe, still half-draped over his back.

Flame smirked at her, "Come on, you didn't think a little injury like that was going to kill me, did you?"

"Little injury?" Sparx muttered, having been hovering awkwardly near Ember. "I'd hate to see what a serious injury is, if that's the case."

Ember had lowered her head, her body shaking with soundless sobs but no tears leaving her eyes. Flame tried to twist around to face her, but winced as his injury twinged painfully. Instead he raised a wing to caress her cheek in an attempt to raise her head.

"Hey, come on, Ember," he murmured, his voice unusually soft. "I'm okay now…don't cry…"

"I…" Ember whispered, still not meeting his eyes, "I thought I'd…lost you…"

Before Flame could respond, Ember's head snapped up and she leapt at him with tears springing into her eyes again. Flame jerked in shock as Ember pressed her lips against his, so forcefully that she pushed him over onto his back. He winced as she fell on top of his chest, but he didn't care. Ember was kissing him—that was all that mattered. Both were oblivious to the eyes of Spyro and Cynder watching them with fondness and relief.

Ember broke the kiss moments later, but remained lying on top of him with her snout almost touching his. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but there was a smile on her face as she gazed at the dragon pinned beneath her.

"I love you, Flame," she whispered, nuzzling his snout, "I love you more than you could ever know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner…I…I almost left it too late."

"It's okay," the red dragon smiled gently, enjoying having her on top of him, even if it did hurt. "I would have waited forever just to hear you say it. But you know…you had me believing you liked Spyro for a while."

Ember blushed, looking slightly abashed, "I just thought that, well, if I made it seem like I was interested in someone else…you might start to notice me."

Flame chuckled, "I had already noticed you, Ember. I was just…blinded by jealousy, I guess…too afraid to ask you in case you liked him. Too afraid that I might ruin our friendship…"

A sad look entered Ember's eyes, "I'm sorry…I never meant you to feel that way…"

"It doesn't matter now," Flame reassured her, and leant forwards to kiss her again. He smiled when their lips met, content that he finally had the dragoness of his dreams.

"Could you…er…" Flame mumbled when he broke the kiss, "get off me? It's…kind of uncomfortable."

Ember's face turned bright red and she scrambled off his chest as quickly as she could, apologising. Flame rolled himself onto his belly again, wincing, but gave Ember a reassuring smile to show her he was alright. His gaze then turned to the two dragons who had been watching him. His eyes hardened slightly upon meeting Spyro's gaze.

"It's good to see you're alright, Flame," Spyro said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. He could tell there was still enmity between him and the red dragon, but it didn't seem quite as strong as before.

"Yeah," Flame grunted, allowing his eyes to sweep over the cavern. He remembered vaguely coming in here with Alta, but the memories were slightly blurry.

When he saw what was lying on the floor in the middle of the cavern, a jolt of shock swept through his body. His eyes widened with both shock and horror as he drank in the sight of Alta lying dead on the floor, covered with his own blood that was slowly seeping into the rock beneath him. Even from here Flame could see the cause of his death. His throat was slit—a clean cut that continued to gush blood. It made Flame's stomach churn, and he turned his eyes accusingly on Spyro.

"You…you killed him…?" he whispered, his voice trembling. He wasn't sure what to feel. The memories of everything that had happened since he met Alta were full of odd gaps and blurry patches, but most of it he felt he could recall if he concentrated hard enough. He remembered hearing Alta's voice in his head, urging him to kill his friends. And he remembered the necklet he'd accepted from the grey dragon, the same one that lay in tiny shards at his feet. Alta hadn't been a good dragon, he remembered that much. But had he deserved to die?

"No," Spyro sighed in response, much to Flame's surprise, "I didn't kill him. But I couldn't save him from killing himself."

Flame's eyes widened, "He…killed himself?"

Spyro and Cynder both nodded, and Flame didn't say anything for a few moments. Instead he gazed at the lifeless grey dragon, staring into his blank blue eyes that saw nothing and would never see again. A shiver ran down his spine and he shuddered, turning his face away from the dead dragon. He didn't know what to feel. He knew he should hate the grey dragon for what had happened, but part of him felt sorry for the lonely oracle dragon. From the fuzzy memories he could gather of his time with Alta, he knew that the grey dragon had not led a happy life. And now here he lay lifeless, a victim of his own sorrow.

"At least…you didn't kill him," Flame mumbled to Spyro. "That wouldn't have been right."

Spyro nodded slowly, "I know. I did everything I could to save him, but…in the end there was nothing I could do."

A shudder passed over the purple dragon and he closed his eyes as though to will away the unwanted pain. He felt guilty, there was no doubt about that, and it would be a while before he would stop blaming himself for the death of the oracle dragon. Cynder noticed his discomfort, and spoke the words that everyone had been thinking.

"I think it's time to go," she said, looking towards the mouth of the tunnel. "Seriphos is probably wondering what has happened to us."

Indeed, the cries of the grublins had not been heard for quite a while now. It seemed the battle was over, but none of the young dragons knew what had happened to the squadron. Spyro nodded in agreement with Cynder's words and turned to Flame.

"Can you walk?" he asked the red dragon.

Scowling, Flame attempted to push himself to his feet. But a snarl ripped from his throat as pain lanced through his body, and he found himself on the floor again. Ember gazed at him with worry, but he brushed her concern off, breathing heavily as the pain subsided again. He shook his head.

"I can't," Flame muttered, sounding very much annoyed. Ember chewed her lip in concern.

"What do we do, then?" she asked anxiously, looking to Spyro and Cynder for help.

"Maybe we could leave him here," Sparx suggested, clearly not having forgiven the red dragon for his animosity towards Spyro.

Every dragon present glared at Sparx and he fell silent, looking suitably abashed. Spyro strode forwards and knelt down alongside Flame, much to the red dragon's surprise and confusion.

"I can carry you," the purple dragon suggested, gesturing for Flame to crawl onto his back.

But the red dragon looked mortified at the suggestion, "What? I'm not letting you carry me like I'm some weak hatchling!"

Spyro sighed in exasperation, "You can't even get up, Flame! Just let me help you!"

But Flame's stubborn streak had kicked in once more and he glared irately at Spyro, "I don't need help!"

Yet again he attempted to push his injured body upright, only to fall back down with a yelp of pain. Ember looked worried, perhaps that he might open his wound again. She stepped forwards, her eyes bright and anxious.

"Please, Flame, just let him help you," she insisted.

Flame snorted and averted his eyes from the both of them. Cynder, who had been standing to the side, saw something glitter out of the corner of her eye. Curious, she slunk away from the three dragons and edged closer to the lifeless body of Alta. Near his body were the broken artefacts that had given him strength. But there was one artefact that had not been broken, and that was what Cynder was staring at. The Poison Claws lay together, in the same spot Cynder had left them after knocking them off Alta's paws. The other dragons were oblivious as she moved to pick them up.

"Flame," Spyro sighed, as the red dragon refused to look at him, "I know that we're not the best of friends, and I know that we got off on the wrong paw, but…why can't we start afresh?"

Flame didn't say a word, and Spyro continued, "There isn't any reason for us to fight anymore. I know you don't like me, and there's always going to be a bit of rivalry between us. But, perhaps we can still be friends. I mean, just look at Naxos and Delos! They're bitter rivals! Hell, from what I've seen they're fighting over the same girl! But, somehow, they're still friends… Don't you see? We can still be rivals, but we can also be friends."

Flame was silent for a long while, still staring at a blank patch on the wall as he thought over Spyro's words. For a moment Spyro believed the red dragon would refuse his offer and insist they could never be friends. But to his surprise, Flame said nothing of the sort.

"I'll think about it," he muttered, staring at the floor. Spyro smiled gratefully.

"That's all I ask," The purple dragon grinned. "Now, will you let me help you?"

Flame glared, clearly wrestling with his own stubbornness, and then nodded once. Spyro sighed with relief and lowered himself to the ground to allow Flame to crawl onto his back. The red dragon did so with a rather humiliated look on his face. He would much rather have walked on his own, but with his injury that wasn't an option.

Across the cavern, Cynder was staring at the Poison Claws with an odd look on her face. After a few silent moments she picked them up and stuffed them into the empty deerskin pouch. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but something told her that she might be wanting these claws at some point. She couldn't explain why.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Sparx had hovered over to her and was watching her fumble with the pouch in an attempt to tie it back on her leg.

"Nothing, Sparx," Cynder muttered evasively. "Hey, could you help me?"

"No worries," the dragonfly replied, though he still looked a little suspicious. His tiny fingers quickly managed to tie the straps of the pouch around Cynder's upper foreleg. She smiled and thanked him.

"Hey, Cynder, you coming?"

The black dragoness looked up to see Spyro and Ember standing at the mouth of the tunnel, looking back at her. Flame was clinging awkwardly to Spyro's back, his forepaws clutching around Spyro's chest. Cynder nodded quickly and hurried after them, conscious of the Poison Claws bouncing against her leg within the deerskin pouch. She said nothing about them. For now, Spyro didn't have to know.

With one last glance at the limp body of Alta, the four dragons and one dragonfly set off into the darkness of the tunnel. They never looked back. Alta lay alone, surrounded by rock walls and torches that were slowly dying to embers. Soon he would he left without light, staring blankly into the darkness for all eternity.

* * *

It took a while to get all the dragons out of the tunnel and into the open. It was early morning and the sun had yet to show itself on the horizon. It was still dark, the stars glimmering like tiny spots of light in the blanket of navy blue that was the night sky. Seriphos stood to the side of the mouth of the tunnel, watching as dragons appeared out of the tunnel. They walked in pairs as the tunnel was relatively small, and the sheer size of the group meant it was a slow process getting everyone out.

Seriphos was awed by the different age groups he observed. Some were his age, dragons in their prime, others seemed about the age of Thasos and the guardians, and many were older still. But what surprised him most was the amount of younglings. There were those the same age as Spyro and Cynder, some slightly older or younger, and several tiny hatchlings that couldn't have been more than a few years old. Seriphos even spotted an egg or two being carried by a cautious mother. It was as though they'd just emptied a whole city of all its inhabitants.

"Is that everyone?" Seriphos asked wearily, tired from the battle. He stood facing a very large group of dragons, far too many to count. After checking that no one was missing, every dragon nodded.

"What about Spyro, Cynder and Ember?" Seriphos muttered to his own squadron. "Has anyone seen them?"

Prowlus shook his head, "There's no sign of them out here, Seriphos."

Anxiously, the green dragon turned to stare back down into the darkness of the tunnel, "Then they must still be inside. I hope they're all right."

A heavy silence fell. The whole squadron was thinking the same thing. What had happened to the young dragons? Were they still in there, fighting with Alta or injured and unable to move? Seriphos chewed his lip anxiously. His thoughts instantly turned to the worst possible scenario.

"Maybe we should go down and look for them," he muttered. "They could be injured or…or worse…"

"Don't think like that," Hunter insisted, leaning heavily on Meadow as his injured leg refused to take his weight. "Spyro is strong, he'll be fine. And he'll look after the others, too. We have to trust him. Just wait. He'll come, I know he will."

So they waited, even though Seriphos's instincts urged him to look for the young dragons. Moments passed and the night sky was beginning to become lighter. The other dragons were muttering to each other, looking around anxiously at their surroundings. Seriphos wondered how long they had been down in the caverns. How long had it been since they'd seen the sun?

After several painful minutes, Seriphos was beginning to lose hope. He was about to head down into the tunnel, when he heard the sound of footsteps on the rock. Dark shapes appeared in the tunnel and Seriphos strained to see who or what it was. He tensed himself for danger, but he needn't be worried. It was Ember who stepped out into the open, followed close by Spyro with Flame clutching to his back, and Cynder with Sparx hovering at her side. Relief swept through the squadron of dragons and cheetahs. They were alive—all of them.

Spyro was struck speechless the moment he stepped out of the tunnel. He had expected to see Seriphos waiting for him, maybe even with the missing search party at his side, but he didn't expect to see this. Dragons stretched as far as he could see—a massive crowd of all different colours, shapes and sizes. They all gazed back at Spyro, looking just as shocked as he was upon finally seeing the fabled purple dragon that had saved their world.

"You're okay, Spyro! And Flame, too!" Seriphos cried. "We were worried about you."

Spyro could only stutter, unable to tear his eyes away from the crowd, "Th-This is…h-how?"

Seriphos followed his gaze, "Ah. Well…I'd like to know how, myself, actually."

A blue dragon at the head of the crowd chuckled, "I suppose we've got a lot of explaining to do, eh?"

Spyro stared at the blue dragon, taking a few moments to recognise him, "Feldun…?"

Feldun nodded, a smile on his face, "Yes. My search party and I have had quite the adventure. I'm sure you'd like to hear it."

Spyro nodded quickly, "But…all the dragons! Where…how? Where did you find them?"

"Oh, we didn't find them," Feldun replied airily, "they found us. Isn't that right, Elder Ryokku?"

Spyro followed Feldun's gaze to a grizzled old red dragon, even older than the guardians. One of his eyes was as bright gold as Flame's, but the other was completely white like a cloudy sky. The old dragon smiled fondly and nodded.

"Indeed, Feldun," he rumbled, his voice pleasantly deep. "But it is thanks to you and your team that we are now outside, under the stars once more."

Spyro was watching a few dragons off to the side. He could see a yellow dragoness, no larger than him, speaking to a white dragoness her own age. Lounging near them were three dragons the same age, one yellow, one blue, and one red. And he could see plenty more young dragons within the crowd. Never would Spyro have believed in his wildest dreams that this could be possible.

"I'm sure your tale is enthralling," Prowlus said to Feldun, folding his arms, "but hadn't we better return to Warfang? There are several wounded, and young Flame there doesn't seem to be in top shape."

The red dragon in question glared at the cheetah chief from Spyro's back, but didn't say a word. Seriphos glanced at the dragons and cheetahs all around him. There were many wounded, that was true, but by some bizarre stroke of luck they had not suffered even a single casualty. Smiling wearily, Seriphos nodded.

"You're right, Prowlus. I think it's time to go home."

* * *

The guardians patrolled the wall for the entire night, anxiously pacing backwards and forwards as they watched the horizon for any sign of the returning squadron. They would take turns to take naps, curling up on the uncomfortable stone wall to sleep for a few hours before resuming patrol. Chios stayed up with them and didn't sleep a wink, her eyes constantly fixed on the distant horizon.

"You should get some rest, young one," Terrador sighed, sitting himself down next to the green dragoness.

But Chios shook her head, "No, I want to see them when they return. I will keep watch until they come back. I know they will come back."

The earth guardian heaved a sigh and gazed out over the land. The sky was beginning to lighten, a line of gold appearing on the horizon as the sun began to rise. Terrador yawned, but he didn't feel tired. He was too anxious to feel tired.

"I hope they will return," he sighed. "All of them."

"They will," Chios replied firmly, "I know it."

Terrador glanced at her. Her face was set, full of determined confidence, but he could see the worry shining in her eyes. He knew what it would mean to her if Naxos and Delos did not return alive. But, as long as the ancestors were watching over them, they surely would.

The earth guardian turned to gaze along the wall. He could see Volteer and Cyril snoring not far away, while Thasos paced backwards and forwards further along the wall. The fire guardian was anxious, too, no doubt worried about the two young dragons he considered his own children. Terrador could only hope that Flame and Ember would return alive, for their sake and for Thasos. He didn't think the fire guardian could handle the loss of those young dragons.

"Terrador, what's that?" Chios asked suddenly, and the earth guardian turned to see what she was staring at.

Something had appeared on the horizon—a great mass that looked a little like a storm front. Terrador blinked and strained his eyes, but couldn't make it out any clearer. He shook his head.

"It looks to me like a whole lot of cloud," he sighed, "but I'm afraid my eyes tend to play tricks on me as I grow older. What do you make of it, Chios?"

The green dragoness was staring at the dark mass that stretched across the sky, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her much younger eyes had seen what Terrador's could not. But she hardly dared to believe what her own eyes were showing her.

"Terrador…" she whispered. "What would you say if I told you those were dragons?"

Terrador blinked and glanced at her, "I'd say your eyes are playing tricks on you, too, young one."

Chios was trembling with excitement and she shook her head as a smile began to grow on her face, "No, Terrador…my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. Those _are _dragons! Look! Look, Terrador! They are dragons!"

Terrador was beginning to think the green dragoness had lost her mind. He stared at the dark mass on the horizon and noticed with surprise that it was getting closer and closer. And just like that, his old eyes finally saw it for what it was. Chios was right. They _were _dragons. There were hundreds of them, covering the sky as the rising sun reflected off their scales. And at the head of them all, flying high with a glowing yellow speck at his side, was a majestic purple dragon.

"By the ancestors," Terrador breathed, his eyes betraying his awe. He leapt to his feet, drawing energy from hope.

"Thasos!" he roared. "Volteer! Cyril! Wake up and look! They've made it! They've returned!"

Thasos had turned, gaping, to see the approaching hoard of dragons. Cyril and Volteer woke up flustered, blinking sleep from their eyes as they wondered what Terrador was yelling about. But the moment they looked out to the horizon, their expressions matched Terrador's perfectly.

"By the ancestors," Cyril echoed, his jaw falling slack.

"Oh my! It's miraculous, phenomenal, unbelievable, incredible!" Volteer cried, his whole body quivering with excitement. "Oh they've done it! They've succeeded!"

Volteer's excitement was infectious and soon all the guardians were grinning and laughing as though they were young again. Chios's face was glowing with happiness, a happiness made greater when she spotted the two dragons she longed to see flying with the huge flock towards the city.

"How is this possible?" Thasos was laughing, his eyes twinkling merrily. "There are so many!"

"Who knows?" Terrador chuckled. "But they've done it. As we knew they could."

The huge group of dragons landed in the main courtyard. Terrador and the other guardians hurried down to meet them and were met by Spyro as the purple dragon came flying out of the crowd and embraced the earth guardian as he would have embraced Ignitus. The earth guardian was shocked by the show of affection, and yet pleased. Though he knew he could never replace Ignitus as a father figure to the young dragon, it was nice to know he was appreciated.

"We're back, Terrador," Spyro grinned, stepping back, "Like we promised."

The earth guardian smiled fondly, "And you've brought so many others back with you. I would never have thought this possible. Well _done_, young dragon."

"Terrador, we've returned!" called Feldun, stepping out of the crowd. Terrador turned to him in surprise.

"Feldun!" he cried, "You've come back!"

The blue dragon grinned sheepishly, "I know it's been a while since we left. But we did as you asked and brought back the dragons we found. Is this enough?"

He gestured to the huge group of dragons behind him, and the guardians chuckled appreciatively. Terrador nodded sagely, a smile on his face.

"It is more than enough, Feldun," the earth guardian replied. "It is good to have you back. And welcome, all of you new dragons!"

"Apparently they've got a bit of a tale to tell," Prowlus spoke up, slipping off Seriphos's back. Terrador turned his eyes on the cheetah.

"Is that so?" he asked. "Well, we'd all like to hear it. But first, where is the one we set out to bring home? Where is Flame?"

"I'm right here."

All heads turned to the voice. Flame was clinging to Naxos's back, having been carried back to Warfang by the older yellow dragon. Ember stood alongside them with Cynder at her side and Sparx hovering above them. Terrador and the other guardians smiled in relief.

"It is good to see you all alive," the earth guardian said. "But you don't seem in top shape, Flame. Are you injured?"

"It isn't too bad," Flame argued, and then winced as his wound twinged painfully.

Thasos chuckled softly, "As stubborn as ever, Flame. You'd better head to the infirmary, though. Naxos, will you take him?"

But Flame didn't want to hear that, "Not yet! I wanted to hear what the others have got to say. I want to know where all these dragons come from!"

The guardians exchanged glances and shrugged.

"Very well," Terrador replied, and turned his gaze to Feldun, "Well, we're all here. Tell us what we need to know, Feldun."

The blue dragon grinned, "My pleasure."

He waited until silence fell before he began his story. Everyone was watching him intently, eager for the story he was about to tell.

"It all started when you sent us out on that search," Feldun began, "We headed out over the dam like you instructed us and began to search the forest beyond the lake. Everything progressed smoothly for a while, though we found no sign of any dragons. Then the unexpected happened. A group of grublins—there were quite a few; more than I could count—ambushed us. They surrounded us on all sides and, though we fought bravely, we were eventually overcome. Surprisingly, though, they didn't kill us. Instead they marched us out of the forest and deep into the mountain range. There, among the caverns and tunnels beneath the earth, they kept us prisoner. I think they were threatening to kill us off one by one—their language is rather hard to understand—and from what I gathered they wanted to use us as bait."

"Bait? For what?" Spyro asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why, for you of course!" Feldun chuckled. "They wanted their revenge against the purple dragon, and it seemed they had a leader than had ordered them to catch any dragons they came across and hold them as bait for the purple dragon. Who that leader was, I am not certain."

"Alta," Spyro mumbled softly, but Feldun didn't hear him.

"We were their prisoners for about a week," the ice dragon continued, "a most uncomfortable week that was, too. The smell was horrible and they treated us no better than dirt. But one day something incredible happened. A group of young dragons no older than you, Spyro, happened upon us. Naturally, the grublins tried to capture them, too. But they escaped and barely an hour later returned with several adult dragons. They slaughtered the creatures that had been imprisoning us and freed us. We were most grateful, not to mention surprised. Where had these dragons come from? Our answer soon came when they led us even deeper into the tunnels where we found a great underground colony of dragons living amongst the caverns and tunnels beneath the mountain."

"No!" Thasos gasped in surprised, but Feldun only grinned.

"Yes, we were surprised too. Dragons of all ages had created their own colony deep beneath the earth. There were several tunnels that led to the surface, but the dragons only left at night to hunt and bring back food. We spent quite a while with these dragons, listening to the story they had to tell, and they were quite hospitable. But when we tried to convince them the war was over and that they could return to the surface world, they wouldn't hear it. They'd been living in fear of Malefor for far too long and most refused to leave the safety of the caverns at all, except to hunt. We tried and tried again to convince them to leave, but they refused time and time again."

"But it wasn't until recently that they began to think over our proposition," Feldun continued. "Many of them, especially the young ones, were tired of living all day beneath rock and stone. They wanted to see the sun and the sky! They wanted to feel the wind beneath their wings and the grass beneath their paws! Slowly but surely they began to agree to leave their old home. And then…well, then you came."

All heads turned to Seriphos as Feldun turned to speak to him. The green dragon looked surprised, but said nothing. Nodding, Feldun continued with his story.

"We heard the commotion and decided to investigate. What we found was a warzone. Dragons and cheetahs were fighting the grublins, and they were greatly outnumbered. I knew we had to help and I had soon gathered the agreement of the whole colony. I suppose it was the final push we needed to convince them to leave. With the slaughter of the grublin army, they were finally convinced that the war was over. And now, well, here we are."

Feldun grinned around at all his listeners, waiting for their response. Terrador was the first to speak.

"That's quite a tale, Feldun. But I do wonder, what is the tale these dragons have to tell us? How long have they been living beneath the earth? How long has it been since they've seen the sun?" the earth guardian asked as the morning sun rose slowly into the sky.

"A very long time," spoke a deep melodious voice, and all eyes turned on the one who had spoken. It was Ryokku again, the old red dragon with the blind eye.

Thasos looked as though he had seen a ghost as he gazed upon the old dragon, "Ancestors have mercy…it can't be!"

Ryokku chuckled pleasantly, his good eye shifting to fix on Thasos, "It's been too long, Thasos. Far, far too long. So many years have passed. When I last saw you, why…you were no larger than young Spyro here! You and Ignitus made quite the troublesome duo!"

A fond smile crossed Thasos's face, "Ryokku, it _is_ you. You look a little different now that you're older, and you seem to have lost the sight in one of your eyes. But that golden eye of yours…it's no different than how I remember it. Our old mentor, Ryokku…we ran you quite ragged didn't we?"

"I was in my prime back then," Ryokku smiled, "but I should have known better than to think I could handle two young fire dragons such as yourself and Ignitus. Rotten little hatchlings, you were."

Spyro stared from one to the other, "You…know each other? And you knew Ignitus? So that means you can't have lived underground for your whole life!"

"Heavens, no!" old Ryokku gave a great, booming laugh. "No, we have only been underground since…"

The old red dragon paused, his brow furrowed with deep thought. He turned around to the crowd, his good eye sweeping over them.

"Where is Seak?" he called. "I believe _she _should be the one to tell this tale."

There was a small commotion amongst the crowd and Spyro heard many dragons whispering the words 'Mother Seak'. Soon the crowd had parted and an old white dragoness limped her way to the front. Spyro stared at her in awe. He had never seen any dragon so old—except maybe, he thought, the Chronicler. Her scales were faded white, as though they had been stripped of all colour, and there were many wrinkles around her eyes, talons and lips. Her wings seemed to droop as though she no longer had the strength to lift them up. But it was her eyes that caught Spyro's attention. They were completely white, a foggy milky colour that reminded Spyro of pale storm clouds. This dragoness was completely blind.

"Where is the purple dragon?" called the old dragoness, in a husky voice that reminded Spyro of the howling winds.

"I'm here," Spyro gulped, slightly awed by the dragoness. She was a lot bigger than him and something about her milky white eyes was rather creepy.

"Come closer," she requested, "so that I may _see_ you."

Spyro wasn't sure what she meant. After all, she was blind, she couldn't see. But he stepped forwards anyway and remained as still as possible as the old dragon extended a wing that she brushed over his face. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine. A smile crossed her old, wrinkled face.

"You need not be frightened of me, young one," she chuckled. "I am known by most as Mother Seak and have been living for a very, _very _long time. Far longer than you could ever imagine, young dragon."

Spyro stared up at her and suddenly he felt calmer. She was strange, but there was a gentle and wise aura radiating from her colourless scales. Something told him that, in her prime, she would have been a very beautiful dragoness.

"You must be the guardians," Seak had turned her old grizzled head towards the four guardians, as though she could actually see them. "I've met many guardians throughout my years. All have been kind and wise. Tell me, what are your names, wise ones?"

Terrador bowed his head, forgetting that Seak couldn't see, "I am Terrador, Old Mother. I am the guardian of earth."

"Cyril," Cyril added, with a gracious bow, "the guardian of ice."

"The guardian of electricity," Volteer stammered, looking excited, "I am Volteer!"

There was a sudden silence and all heads turned to Thasos, waiting for him to speak. But he had bowed his head and did not say a word. Seak turned her sightless gaze towards him, as though she somehow knew he was there.

"And what about you?" she asked gently.

Thasos raised his head and stared into her sightless eyes, "I am Thasos. The Guardian of Fire is a title that I do not carry officially…that title belongs to my old friend Ignitus. He died during the war, and I am carrying on his duties until a new fire guardian can be trained and appointed."

Seak gazed at him, her blind eyes seeming to search his very soul, "You are a wise dragon, Thasos, guardian of fire. Your friend may have held that title during his time, but he has passed on. That title now belongs to you. Accept it and carry it with pride."

Thasos nodded slowly, returning his gaze to the ground. A sad look had crossed Ryokku's face.

"So…Ignitus has passed on?" he murmured. "How sad…that I should have outlived him. He was such a bright young dragon. But all lives will end at some point. It is only a shame I did not get to meet him again. I imagine he grew to be a wise and kind guardian."

"He was," Spyro said suddenly, catching their attention. "He was like a father to me. You say you were his mentor? You would have been proud of him."

Ryokku smiled fondly, "I'm sure I would have, young dragon. Now, Seak, there is a tale to tell."

The old blind dragoness chuckled huskily, "Indeed there is, my old friend. Now, young dragon, guardians, would you like to hear this tale?"

"We would, Mother Seak," Spyro replied, smiling as her homely title rolled easily off his tongue.

"It starts on a night fifteen years ago," Seak began, her voice somehow causing all those around her to fall silent. "It was a dark and fearful night when the clouds blocked out the moons and the stars, and left the city of Warfang in darkness. We, the council of Avalar, received word from a messenger about an attack on the Dragon Temple. It was something we had hoped never to hear. All of the eggs had been smashed, despite the efforts of the guardians. Even the egg of the purple dragon, the one that we had so eagerly been waiting to hatch, had been lost. The Dark Master was making his move and we were powerless to stop him. Even while he remained in his prison of Convexity, we were still powerless against him. Such was his power."

"A decision was made to protect Warfang against outside forces. We expected the mighty walls to be the greatest protection against any outside foe. But then…well, then we heard the rumours of a mighty dragon, a beast so powerful it filled the skies themselves with terror! They called her Cynder, the Terror of the Skies, and against her the walls of Warfang were powerless. We had no choice."

Spyro glanced over at Cynder and saw that she was staring at the ground, no doubt pained by all the horrible memories of her time as Malefor's corrupted servant. He wanted to comfort her, but remained where he was, enthralled by Seak's tale.

"Warfang was full of mothers and children," Seak continued, "It was an old custom to send eggs away to the Dragon Temple, especially during the Year of the Dragon, but one that was beginning to die. Many had not sent their eggs to the Dragon Temple to hatch and the young ones were now in danger. There were still some eggs left unhatched, and we knew they would be smashed should Cynder ever lead her army of Dreadwings to war with our great city. So we came to a decision. A painful decision. We decided to leave our city. Several stayed behind—the stronger males refused to leave the city and the moles, too proud of their great city, stayed behind to defend that which they had built long ago. The rest of us, mothers, children, elders and those who were afraid to stay, fled from our once great city."

"We searched for a place to hide, a place to ride out the war that would surely leave our world in ruins. We almost lost hope. But our luck held strong and we happened across a hidden maze of caves and caverns beneath a mountain range not far from here. It was a perfect place to hide, but we did not realise how long we would remain hidden. The earth dragons extended the caverns greatly, and we made ourselves at home beneath the mountains. Only at night would the strong and the brave leave to bring back food for the hungry. It was hard at first. We missed the sun and the sky, the wind and the grass. But gradually we became used to it. Sometimes the daring would sneak out and come back with news of the horrible war that was shaping the land. But we never strayed far from our hiding place. We were too afraid."

"The years passed. Hatchlings grew and eggs were both hatched and laid. We became used to our way of life, living in fear beneath the ground. We believed we would never be found. But we did wonder what had happened to our mighty city. We wondered whether the Dark Master had been freed from his prison and whether he'd spread his law over the land. But we never left to find out. We stayed hidden for many, many years."

"And then, one day, a new group of creatures happened upon our home. They were hideous little beasts, and I remember from long ago being taught about their ancient race. They were called grublins. We wondered why they were here, and we hoped they would leave. But they didn't. They settled down and we were forced to retreat deeper into our home, away from them. We didn't know why they had come or where they had come from, but they weren't about to leave. We were bitter towards them, but we had no idea they had been involved in the war. Until Feldun came."

The old dragoness turned her blind eyes towards the blue dragon, "We rescued he and his comrades from the clutches of the grublins. He told us about the outside world, about how the purple dragon had somehow survived the raid on the temple, and how he had rescued Cynder from the Dark Master's clutches. He told us how the Dark Master had doomed the apes to wander the darkness forever more as no more than wandering spirits, and how he had formed instead an army of grublins. And he told us how the mighty purple dragon and the former Terror of the Skies had defeated the Dark Master and ended the war. Many did not believe him. It was too great a tale, too unbelievable. How could the Dark Master be gone? No, it was surely a lie."

"But slowly he convinced us, and now we have returned to our mighty Warfang once more," Seak smiled gently, gazing sightlessly down at Spyro. "And we only have you to thank, Spyro. And, of course, miss Cynder. Where is she?"

Cynder was stunned that Seak had even asked for her. She gulped and stuttered, "I-I'm here."

Seak turned slowly towards the sound of Cynder's voice and made her way slowly over to the black dragoness. Cynder gazed up at her, awed by her sightless, milky white eyes.

"Well done, young dragoness," Seak praised, "it could not have been done without you."

Ryokku chuckled, "To think that the very dragoness that drove us into hiding would be the one to help defeat the Dark Master. Well done, Spyro, Cynder. You've done well."

Spyro stared at the dragons all around him. They were gazing at him with the greatest of gratitude, the young and old alike. To them he was a saviour, he could see it in their eyes, his own reflection—that of a hero, a warrior, a liberator that had ended the war that had started so many years ago. He was the mighty purple dragon, the one the prophecies had spoken of before he had even been born, the one destined to save the world or end it. He had saved countless lives and brought about an age of peace. That was the reflection he saw in their eyes. And for the first time since the end of Malefor, Spyro felt as though he had truly accomplished something. And he knew Ignitus would be proud.

* * *

Exhausted from their nightly endeavours, most of the squadron had retired to bed despite it being only mid morning. None, however, slept as long as Spyro. When the purple dragon awoke he found the sun shining through from his balcony, momentarily blinding him. Yawning, he raised his head and glanced out towards the sky. He was met by the pale blue sky of morning and a sun that had risen only a few hours ago. Confused, Spyro glanced around his room. It had been morning when he'd fallen asleep, so how could it still be morning?

"I see you're finally awake," said the amused voice of a dragoness from the doorway.

Spyro's gaze snapped towards the voice and he observed Cynder striding through the doorway into his room. The morning sun reflected off her scales and made her sparkle like a spirit gem. Spyro greeted her with a smile as he pushed himself upright and stretched his limbs.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked as Cynder stopped in front of him and his bed of cushions.

"Since yesterday morning," the black dragoness smirked, her emerald eyes twinkling. "I almost thought you wouldn't wake up."

"Yesterday morning?" Spyro yelped. "You mean I slept for the whole day and the whole night?"

Cynder shrugged, "You were tired. But you deserved a rest. You're a hero, after all."

Smiling vaguely, Spyro gazed around his room as though to make sure that nothing had changed while he had been napping. But it was all the same—the beige stone walls, the almost empty bookshelf, the silver chest of armour, the large yellow cushions on which he slept—nothing had changed.

"Have the new dragons settled in?" he asked, and Cynder's reply was to curl her tail around his neck and tug him towards the balcony.

"I'll show you," she smirked as he stumbled after her.

The black dragoness stopped in front of the balcony rail, releasing Spyro from her tail's grasp and beckoning him to her side. Curiously, Spyro stepped over to the rail and gazed out at the city streets stretched out below him. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Dragons everywhere strode the streets, talking and laughing amongst each other, stopping to chat with the moles and cheetahs they passed. The vibrant colours of their scales seemed to somehow bring the stone city to life, as their voices filled the formerly quiet and lonely air. Awed, Spyro could not take his eyes off the streets below him.

"The streets of Warfang are full again," Cynder murmured from beside him, a soft smile on her face, "thanks to you."

"This is amazing," Spyro replied in a hushed voice. "Just when we thought our race was endangered…look at them all! Warfang is a full city again!"

Cynder chuckled and Spyro turned to her with his violet eyes almost glowing with both pride and gratitude.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he smiled, "and everyone else: Seriphos, Ember, Hunter, Prowlus…Flame. We couldn't have achieved this without them."

Cynder was about to respond when a soft knock came from the door across the room. They glanced behind them to see the door creak open and a pink head poke timidly into the room. Ember smiled when she saw the two dragons on the balcony and pushed the door open as she hurried to join them.

"I thought you'd be here, Cynder," the pink dragoness greeted, "I came to check on you two. You've been sleeping for a while, Spyro. Some of us were getting worried."

Spyro only smiled in response, shifting aside to allow the pink dragoness to glance over the edge of the balcony. She gazed appreciatively at the many dragons that filled the streets.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Ember asked, though the question was rhetorical. "I've never seen so many dragons in one place."

"This is what Warfang is supposed to be like," Spyro replied, grinning. "It's great, isn't it?"

Ember nodded in agreement and suddenly her eyes lit up as though she'd just remembered something. Cynder and Spyro glanced at her as she uttered a small 'oh!' of surprise.

"That reminds me," the pink dragoness grinned, turning to them, "I thought you might like to know. I was talking to the moles earlier and they told me that the restoration of the North Wall and the damaged area of the city should be moving along quicker now. Apparently many of the new dragons have agreed to help, which is going to make it a lot easier for the moles. They said it should take about a year, maybe less, to rebuild everything."

Spyro's face lit up, "That's great! Soon Warfang will be back to its old state of grandeur!"

"Uh-huh," Ember was grinning as though she knew something else, "that's not all. Apparently there were a few important buildings in the northern area of the city that were destroyed in the war. The moles are going to rebuild them once the repairs on the wall are finished."

"What sort of important buildings?" Cynder asked curiously, and Ember was only too happy to explain.

"Oh, the library and the hatchery," Ember looked excited, "and the academy of course!"

"Academy?" Spyro and Cynder echoed together, eyes widening.

"Yeah! It's where the young dragons were taught. You know, things like how to breathe elements, how to fight and defend yourself, proper etiquette, history of the dragon race, stuff like that," Ember explained, her face almost glowing with excitement, "There's even a flying ground where young dragons are taught to fly! And once it's all rebuilt, the guardians say that all young dragons are expected to attend. Guess that includes us, huh?"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged surprised glances. Neither had ever gone to a _real _school, and neither knew exactly what it would be like. Sure, Spyro had attended dragonfly school with Sparx back when he was young, before he knew he was a dragon. But something told him that this would be entirely different.

"So it's like a huge school, huh?" Spyro asked, before an amused smile flickered onto his face. "Sparx would love that. He always hated it when mum sent us to dragonfly school to learn how to be proper dragonflies and raise a family. We always escaped and hid somewhere."

Ember stared incredulously at the purple dragon, "You went to a dragonfly school?"

Spyro laughed loudly as Cynder giggled behind her wing. Ember looked half-confused and half-amused, perhaps wondering if this was some sort of silly joke.

"I'll explain later," Spyro grinned, and then glanced back into his room. "Come to think of it, where is Sparx?"

"Oh, I saw him helping the moles earlier," Cynder answered his question. "I forgot to tell you. I think he enjoys ordering them around."

"He was always like that," Spyro mused quietly, before he remembered something else. "Hey, Ember, how's Flame doing?"

The pink dragoness looked surprised, "Oh, I almost forgot! He's been in the infirmary since yesterday, getting that injury healed. The moles say they have to take it slow because the wound was so close to his heart. But he's doing alright. I think they said he should be alright to walk sometime today, depending on how strong he is."

A relieved smile appeared on Spyro face, "That's good. I was worried for a bit…"

The purple dragon fell silent as he delved into his thoughts. What did Flame think of him now? Were they still enemies, or had the red dragon considered his proposal to be friends? Spyro couldn't see any reason for the two of them to fight, but he knew Flame's stubbornness might think otherwise. Sighing, Spyro stared at his paws. He would just have to wait and see what Flame would decide.

"I'm going to go back and check on him now, actually," Ember was saying, breaking Spyro out of his thoughts, "So I'll see you both later."

With a friendly wink and a smile, the pink dragoness turned and strode back across Spyro's room, disappearing out the door. Spyro watched her go, still pondering about Flame, until Cynder's voice caught his attention.

"We should go find the guardians," she suggested, turning towards the door. "They'll want to know you're awake."

Spyro agreed with a nod and followed the black dragoness out of his room.

* * *

They found the guardians in the Main Hall, though the meeting with them was less than exciting. They merely confirmed what Ember had already said, about the rebuilding of the North wall and the Academy. Spyro was interested to hear, however, that the guardians, along with Mother Seak and Elder Ryokku, were planning to reform the Council of Avalar.

"I'm sure there are plenty willing to join the council," Terrador said, glancing over at Feldun who was chatting with several other dragons across the room.

"And many of us were part of the original council before we left Warfang back then," old Ryokku added, his good eye fixed on the two young dragons. "Mother Seak and I will gladly join the council once again."

"Indeed we will, Ryokku," Mother Seak wheezed, her sightless eyes staring into infinity.

"Yes, but for now let us concentrate on restoring our old city back to what it used to be," Cyril interrupted, glancing down at Spyro and Cynder. "I trust you two will be willing to help with the restoration?"

"Of course," Spyro said quickly as Cynder nodded. "We'll help."

Cyril scrutinised them closely, as though he had expected them to say otherwise. After a moment he sniffed pompously and simply said, "Good."

Terrador and Volteer chuckled softly, and Spyro couldn't help but grin. They were interrupted by a rather indignant voice, one that Spyro knew all two well.

"What are you all laughing about? The rebuilding of the North Wall and the damaged buildings is a serious matter!"

Spyro turned to grin at his surrogate brother. Sparx had just entered the hall, followed close by two moles, and had folded his arms in a business-like matter.

"Hey, Sparx," Spyro greeted. "Haven't seen you since yesterday."

"Well whose fault is that?" Sparx replied, hovering over to Spyro's face and jabbing a finger at his snout. "You're the one who slept the whole day away! I've spent so long helping to rebuild the city, and all you've been doing is sleeping! You know if you weren't so lazy, you wouldn't be so fat."

Spyro snorted softly, with enough force to send the tiny dragonfly tumbling head over heals in the air. The purple dragon grinned as Sparx straightened himself, mumbling bad-temperedly.

"Who are you calling lazy?" Spyro grinned. "I hear all you do is yell orders! No heavy-lifting?"

"I-It's an important job!" Sparx stuttered in his defence, only succeeding in making Spyro laugh.

Ignoring the bantering brothers, the guardians instead focused on the two moles that had come in with Sparx. One of them was wearing a rather peculiar pair of goggles over his beetle-black eyes.

"Mason," Terrador addressed the goggle-wearing mole, "how is everything going?"

Mason scratched his furry skull, "It's coming along slowly, master Terrador. We're in need of some heavy lifters. Care to help us?"

"Of course," Terrador replied, before addressing Volteer. "Go fetch Feldun and the others. Tell them we're in need of their assistance."

"What about us?" Spyro asked, glancing up at the earth guardian.

"You and Cynder can have the day off today," Terrador replied, much to Cyril's annoyance, "as a reward for what you have already done for this city. But tomorrow the real work begins! Off you go, now."

Responding with a grateful bow, Spyro left the main hall with Cynder at his side. He paused at the door when he noticed Sparx wasn't following and looked back quizzically in search of the dragonfly.

"Aren't you coming, Sparx?" Spyro called.

Sparx hovered over to him, scratching his head awkwardly, "Well, I'm actually going to help them rebuild the wall. I know I'm small and everything, but I'm sure I can still find ways to help out. It keeps me busy, you know? Besides, I'm sure you and Cynder would like some time alone together. I'll see you 'round, bro."

Surprised, Spyro watched the dragonfly hover back over to join the moles and the guardians. He shrugged and left the hall, shaking his head.

"At least he's being helpful," the purple dragon smiled to himself, feeling slightly guilty about not helping the moles himself. Tomorrow, he assured himself, tomorrow he would help them.

"So, where should we go?" Cynder asked, smiling expectantly at him. "We've got the whole day to ourselves. Any ideas?"

Spyro hesitated, pondering the question as he watched several young dragons chasing each other through the streets. Perhaps they should get to know some of the new arrivals. It wouldn't hurt to make some friends of their own age. He was about to suggest this idea to Cynder, when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"There you are. I was afraid I'd have to search the whole city for you."

Spyro turned in shock to see a young red dragon limping towards him. Flame's chest was swathed with clean white bandages and he was walking with a slight limp. Ember stayed close to his side, anxious that he may suddenly collapse.

"Flame! Should you be walking?" Spyro asked, glancing at the bandage around his chest.

The red dragon snorted, "I'm stronger than I look. The injury is almost healed, anyway. The bandage is just to cover it, make sure it doesn't get infected and doesn't open again…"

"The moles didn't want him to leave yet," Ember cut in, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness, "but he insisted. You know how stubborn he is."

Flame glared at her, but he didn't seem all that annoyed. In fact, Spyro couldn't help but notice how his face softened whenever he looked at the pink dragoness. He smiled vaguely.

"Anyway," Flame glanced at Spyro, his golden eyes hard and serious, "I need to talk with you, Spyro. That's why I came looking for you."

Surprised, Spyro stared at the red dragon and nodded slowly, "Okay, what did you want to talk about?"

Flame hesitated and glanced meaningfully at Ember. The pink dragoness seemed to understand as she smiled reassuringly and nuzzled his cheek before striding over to Cynder. She extended a wing over the black dragoness's shoulders and led her away.

"It's a boy thing," she muttered to Cynder. "Let's leave them be for now."

Cynder smirked and glanced briefly back at the two male dragons, "Alright, we'll leave them be. Race you to the gardens, Ember!"

"You're on!" Laughing, the two dragonesses scampered away towards the gardens and left the two males in peace.

Spyro watched them go before staring curiously at Flame. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone with Flame without having to defend himself from the red dragon. Flame was staring at the ground, seemingly embarrassed and reluctant to speak.

"What is it?" Spyro prompted curiously.

Flame sighed and raised his head to meet Spyro's eyes, "It's about what you said back in the cavern. About us…being friends."

Spyro raised his eyebrows in surprise, though part of him had expected it. What would Flame have to say about the matter, though? Spyro wasn't sure, so he stayed silent and let the red dragon continue.

"I know…that I've been a jerk to you," Flame muttered, looking uncomfortable, "and that I've been too stubborn to see you as who you really are, rather than who I thought you were. It was my anger and jealousy towards you that…that allowed me to be controlled by Alta. I realise that now and I feel…ashamed, and humiliated."

Spyro didn't say a word. He knew Flame didn't want him to speak yet. The red dragon looked like he was struggling with his own words, as though some part of him didn't want to speak them.

"I saw you as a stuck-up, spoiled hatchling," Flame admitted, "too full of yourself to notice others because you were the 'mighty purple dragon'. Everyone looked up to you, treated you with the greatest respect, as though you were some sort of god. I thought that, because of this, you believed you were better than everyone else. I hated you and…I was jealous of you."

Flame took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut as though the words he was about to speak pained him, "But I see now that I was wrong about you. You were never…full of yourself. You always think about others before yourself and even though you are the purple dragon…you know you're not a god. You act as though you're just a normal dragon, and you've put up with all of my anger and jealousy towards you. You've been patient with me and, even after everything I've done to you, you don't hate me."

"I realised that, back in the cavern," Flame sighed, turning his gaze away from the stunned Spyro. "Even after everything I've done, you still extended a paw to me offering help and friendship. I was wrong about you, Spyro and…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you and I can only thank you for putting up with me."

Spyro stared, utterly shocked by what he had just heard. Here was Flame, the one dragon that had despised him more than any other, apologising for everything. Never in his wildest dreams would Spyro have expected something like this from the red dragon. A smile crept onto his face.

"You don't have to apologise," Spyro grinned. "I think, if I had been in your place, I might have acted the same way, too."

Flame snorted, looking both abashed and embarrassed. He looked up when Spyro extended a paw towards him, his violet eyes twinkling hopefully.

"So, friends?" the purple dragon asked.

Flame stared at the paw, hesitating slightly. Spyro knew he was reluctant to accept the gesture, after so long hating and despising him. But at last Flame met Spyro's eyes and replied, "Rivals."

Spyro's eyes widened in surprise, but Flame continued, "Friends, but rivals. I'm not finished with you yet, purple boy. I'll beat you one day, you can count on that!"

Spyro grinned as Flame slapped the pad of his paw against his own, sealing the pact. The two male dragons nodded at each other, identical grins on their faces, finally having settled the dispute that had started since their first meeting.

"Then I look forward to the day you do, Flame," Spyro replied. "And maybe then you'll be ready to become the next Fire Guardian."

Flame smirked, "You can bet on it."

* * *

Late evening found Spyro sitting alone on his balcony, bathed in the light of the moons as he gazed into the star-flecked sky. A cool wind blew, caressing his violet scales with a gentle touch, but he wasn't cold. The streets of Warfang had fallen silent, washed in the pale light of the moons, as dragons retired to their rest. The cheetahs had already left that afternoon, returning to Avalar. It had been sad to see Hunter, Meadow, and even Prowlus leave. But Spyro knew he would see them all again soon.

Soft footsteps alerted him to the sound of someone approaching from behind. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

"There you are, Spyro," Cynder said as she sat down beside him, "I was wondering where you were. It's getting late, I was about to go to bed."

When Spyro didn't reply, Cynder added softly, "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Mmm," Spyro mumbled vaguely in reply, as though his thoughts were elsewhere. He never took his eyes off the moons.

Cynder knew instantly that there was something else weighing on his mind. He always acted like this when he was worried or thinking about something. Anxiously, Cynder wondered what it was that was troubling him.

"Is there something wrong, Spyro?" she asked gently.

The purple dragon frowned at the sky and replied, "I don't know. I just feel like there's…something else. Like we've missed something or…I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right, as though it isn't over yet."

Cynder curled her tail reassuringly around his, pressing herself closer to his side. She gazed up at the moons, too, observing their unusual tints. One was pale red, the other pale green, and they shone their soft light down upon the city.

"You're just feeling jittery," Cynder reassured Spyro. "It's only natural after what we've been through. We've defeated both Malefor and Alta and brought peace to the world. It's natural to feel a little jittery, but don't worry, it'll soon pass. You'll see."

Spyro sighed, "Are you sure, Cynder? I just feel like we shouldn't be relaxing just yet. I can't help but remember what Alta said…about the end of the dragon race. What if he was right and it was meant to occur?"

Cynder glared sternly at him, "Don't think like that! Alta was, well, he was insane. Even if he did have a vision, it doesn't mean it had to come true. Malefor believed the purpose of the purple dragon was to destroy the world, but we proved him wrong when we saved it instead. And we proved Alta wrong, too."

Spyro stared at his paws and didn't reply. He couldn't explain the feeling—that little voice in his head was telling him not to let his guard down. Malefor and Alta were dead and gone, but was it really over?

"The grublins are gone, the apes are gone," Cynder continued, "and Warfang is full of dragons again. We've been living in an age of war for far too long, but now it's time for an age of peace to begin. So stop worrying, Spyro. Everything is going to be fine now, you'll see."

Yawning, Cynder unwound her tail from Spyro's and stood up. The purple dragon glanced up at her, still pondering her words. She smiled wearily at him.

"I'm going inside," Cynder said, "I'm tired. You should, too, before you get cold. See you in the morning, Spyro."

The black dragoness licked his cheek affectionately before turning away and disappearing out the door across the room. Spyro sighed, and turned his gaze back to the moons. He couldn't help the foreboding feeling in his chest as he stared at the night sky. Alta and Malefor were gone, but Spyro knew that, somehow, the darkness still lingered. And something told him that it wasn't over yet.

"I hope you're right, Cynder," the purple dragon sighed at last, although the black dragoness was long gone. "For all our sakes. But something tells me you're not."

With one last look at the celestial moons, Spyro rose to his feet and followed Cynder back inside.

**Extra A/N: I decided to separate the final part of this chapter into its own epilogue, in case any of you previous readers were wondering.**

**A/N: It's done! It's really done! I actually finished something! :D Thanks a bunch to everyone who put this story on their favourite/alert list, and also to everyone who reviewed. Extra special thanks to Zerospyro,** **Vento the dragon, Bizzleb, AvatarFan1, Bid Byth, dragonshina and Guardian117 for being my most loyal reviewers ;) Thanks for sticking with me. And thanks for everyone else who reviewed, because even if it was only once it still made me feel special and gave me the motivation to write these chapters. Thanks so much everyone! This is your last chance to review this story, so go on, tell me what you thought of this as a final chapter and the story as a whole. :) I'll really appreciate it.**

**Now, the question remains, will there be a sequel? I've left this last chapter pretty open for one, and I can honestly say that yes, there most likely will be a sequel. At the moment all the ideas are jumbled bits and pieces that I need to somehow fit together. So bear with me for a while as I figure it all out. But don't you worry, I will be back with another story. ;) And watch out for any other oneshots or short stories I might write in the mean time. **

**So, with that all said, all I can say now is: see you all again soon. And I hope you've enjoyed reading Tears of an Oracle!**

**Until next time.**

**~Riverstyxx**


	28. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The room was lit by the feeble light of candles around the walls, settled on shelves between dusty tomes and old books. But they weren't the only light. In the centre of the room, emitting an eerie blue light that spread across the rock floor, was a giant hourglass. It was very quiet here, where the silence was broken only by the rustling of paper as another page was turned.

A dragon sat beside the hourglass, his scales the colour of dusky blue-grey and a rich blue coat settled over his shoulders. His gaze was fixed solely on the book that floated before him, suspended by some unseen force, its pages the pale beige colour of parchment. With a wave of his paw, the blue-grey dragon turned the page without even touching the book. He had made it to the last page and, with a sigh, he closed the book on the picture that had been depicted on that final page.

The cover of the book was silvery grey, its spine as white as ivory. With another wave of his paw, the old dragon sent the book back to its place on the shelf and called forth another. The book that floated towards him was even larger, and would have been classed as a tome. Its cover was dull lustreless black and it looked older than time itself. The book opened in response to the old dragon.

He quickly found what he was looking for, his eyes searching the page that it had opened to. A new name had appeared in this book, written in curling silvery writing.

_Alta – Of the Oracle Tribe._

The old dragon, known by most as the Chronicler, heaved another sigh and closed the book once more. This was the Book of the Dead, a tome where the names of all dragons were recorded when they died. The Chronicler sent the book back to its shelf with another wave of his paw.

"So it is true," he sighed. "Young Alta has passed on, killed by his own despair. He died believing he was the last of his tribe, however…"

He paused, remembering the picture he had seen on the last page of Alta's book, "That is not the case. One remains—the last living member of your tribe. It is a shame you did not live to see him again."

"A shame," the Chronicler repeated softly, before beckoning a different book from another shelf.

This book was purple, edged with magnificent gold, and its pages were not yet complete. The Chronicler, formerly the Guardian of Fire known as Ignitus, opened the book to the most recent page. His gaze found a picture, that of two young dragons sitting together on a balcony, gazing at the moons. These two dragons he knew personally, but had not seen in the flesh for a while.

"Well, Spyro," Ignitus, the Chronicler, smiled. "You have done well to come this far. You have defeated Malefor, pulled the world back together, defeated yet another threat, and filled the streets of Warfang once more. You have surpassed my expectations, young dragon, and I could not be prouder."

"But know this," the Chronicler continued, gazing at the picture, "Your efforts have brought about a new age, ending the age that had started with the birth of the first purple dragon. And with each new age, young dragon, comes new trials and hardships. Trust in your friends and yourself, and you shall never fail."

With a vague smile, Ignitus closed the book and returned it back to its shelf, knowing it was far from complete. Spyro's life was only just beginning. There were many more journeys, adventures and trials awaiting him. But as long as Cynder and his friends remained at his side, Ignitus knew the purple dragon would not stray from the right path.

"A new age has only just begun."

_**Fin**_

**Note**

Hey everyone,

There are two things I need to say. The first is, to those of you who don't already know, the sequel to Tears of an Oracle is already out. It's called Residual Darkness and you can find it on my profile. If you enjoyed this story and think you might be interested in the sequel, go check it out.

The second is that I'm going to be editing and resubmitting a few of the earlier chapters of Tears of an Oracle. They're only going to be small edits, nothing that will change the overall story, but these little things have just been bugging me! And when something bugs me, I have to change it! That will happen within the next few days, most likely.

One more thing, I want to thank all my reviewers (again). Thanks to you I reached over 200 reviews, something that I never expected. So thank you so much everyone!

Sorry for this boring little note. I hope you'll all grace me with your presence for the sequel, and I'm glad you all enjoyed reading this story!

**~Riverstyxx**

**Over a year later: **Yes, I finally got around to editing and resubmitting these chapters. 'Within the next few days' indeed… Procrastination is my immortal enemy. Thanks everyone for reading Tears of an Oracle and I hope you enjoyed it!


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